On a ‘Secrets of Central Park’ Tour, I Saw a Different Side of Manhattan’s Beloved Backyard

Once, on a wintry morning walk through Central Park, a place I’m lucky to say is a 10-minute walk from my home, I came face to face with a coyote. Whether it was Romeo or Juliet, two of Central Park’s most elusive mascots, I’ll never know. But the sighting felt like some kind of divine privilege, a fast track through the 10 years it takes to become a real New Yorker. As I continued to wander through The Ramble, graced with a few red cardinals for good measure, I was struck by the realization that there’s still so much of my beloved backyard that I don’t know. I pride myself on my average ability to spit New York City facts on the fly. I love to point out the hidden peephole at the IFC Center whenever I’m passing by the theater with a friend, or make sure whoever is sitting next to me on the Q from Brooklyn keeps their eyes peeled for Masstransiscope (1980). But when it came to Central Park, all I could really offer was the trick to finding your way via the cast-iron lampposts. (For those who don’t know: Each post features a stamped code, the first two or three digits matching the nearest cross street, the final digit revealing what side you’re on—east if it's even