Spring has arrived.

I was walking down the street in my neighborhood, Zizkov, this morning at 9 or 10. People were still stumbling home from bars; I was the only woman out, and I saw more than one dirty guy searching the streets for a smokable cigarette butt (seriously). It was sunny and gorgeous, but it felt sketchy. I didn't feel unsafe, but I did have the feeling (for the first time in my travels) that if something happened to me, no kind stranger would come to my rescue —they would just keep stumbling home in their stupor.
But then I got to the park, climbed a big hill, and found myself overlooking the whole city. To my left, the Prague that tourists know and love —the castle, the river, the medieval squares, and to my right, on the other side of the tracks, the huge Jewish cemetery, and the rooftops of our Brooklynesque crazy neighborhood. Great grafitti and a communist-era granite monstrosity anchor one end of the park which sits along a ridge (Zizkov hill), and a promenade that's basically a bikepath heads all the way to the other end of the park, which is at least a mile long. The park was filled, with sunshine, forsythia blossoms, and czech families on weekend outings. Couples of little old ladies sitting on benches chatting and staring out at the city, families with strollers and camera, little kids on swing-sets, people roller blading (how bizarre!), biking, and running, and lots and lots of dogs (all holding their leashes in their mouths). It felt like all of Prague was out and about on top of Zizkov hill. I sat on a bench in the sunshine, did some rather dull reading about migration within the Czech republic and daydreamed. Getting to sit alone and think in the sunshine though —what a treat.