A WALK IN THE JARDIM BOTÂNICO (July 2020)

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When I grabbed my purse and keys to leave the house for the first time in almost 4 months, Zaffy understood at once and ran to her leash. We were driving, which was fine with her - she loves a ride in the car. She and I settled in the back seat and Oswaldo started the car and pressed the remote for the garage. It didn’t work immediately, and he got flustered as Zaffy started barking terribly at a person passing in the street. I had to get out of the car to jiggle the gate, but finally - impressed with how jittery we felt - we were on our way. We picked up my masked walking friend, Ann, who slid into the front seat and presented her closed fist to Zaffy for recognition.  After a cautious sniff Zaffy responded by licking her mask. Oswaldo dropped the two of us at the deserted side access, and we started walking through the familiar shortcut into the park. Near the entrance staff wearing masks and visors waived us through – “Não precisa tocar nada - No need to touch anything,” explaining that the ancient water fountains would  be cordoned off, and suddenly we were on our usual long leisurely trek through our many favorite spots, resuming our conversation as if we had not been confined to our homes since mid-March.

 



 

We skirted the long row of Imperial palms, where a single falling leaf can crush you, and ventured through the Japanese garden, with its soothing sounds of a burbling brook and the ‘thok’ of a bamboo waterspout. We crossed through the dense Amazonian forest part, nodding to the wooden figure of a fisherman leaning over the water, and emerged into an avenue lined with twin rows of tall smooth pau-mulattos. The air was fresh and clean, and we could hear bands of toucans in the distant treetops. We kept our masks on and maintained a small distance between us but felt quite safe in the almost empty garden. 



After continuing past glorious blue waterlilies and intensely purple flowering bougainvillea trees,

 

 


giving a wide berth to a couple of capuchin monkeys walking unafraid on the ground a tad too close to us, we went to check on Penelope, an elderly tabby cat who’s lived alone near the children’s playground since a small café there closed. There was no sign of her, nor of the food, water and bedding supplied by her many admirers. We hoped she'd been taken to someone’s house. We would learn later that she had been adopted, but sadly passed away. 


When our energy began to flag, we found a bench, which I wiped down with disinfectant before we sat down at either end. It was a moment to be quiet and consider our altered or new reality, but also to celebrate an important step forward: Old friends enjoying a wonderful and liberating outing. 






Then we retraced our steps back through the park - just in time, for it was beginning to get more crowded. We made our way out to the still deserted side entrance, where we found Oswaldo and Zaffy waiting in the safety of our car.


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