People watching in Uptown Kingston on a sunny lunchtime afternoon.

In Kingston, one can still spot a gentleman of a certain age with a jacket and a tie, even a bright patterned ascot peeping out from the pocket of his sharp, crisp navy blue suit.

A tall young woman, stretched even taller in her long slinky black dress and slightly muddied sagging boots, sports her hair cropped short, revealing a dark snakelike tattoo emerging from her hairline behind her ear and disappearing into her dress; she desultorily texts as she wends her way down the block.

The sound of September flip-flops is heard alongside the soft tread of moccasins, underlying the natty snap, tap of shiny, black loafers.

A hastily scrawled sign in the Indian restaurant says thank you for your business; we have gone to New Paltz.  It seems determinedly mysterious and vague.  The “Girls” restaurant is closed for repairs.  A newly opened Mexican restaurant serves up tepid water and long waits for recognition.  One cannot seem to get served there.  The old favorite café sends out waves of meat grilling  aromas and toasted paninis to the sidewalk where yellow jackets will vie for your lunch if you are lucky enough to grab a place at the one sidewalk table.

There are painted peacocks everywhere.  They stand three feet tall and proud, rooted in special tubs along the sidewalks, in front of the shops.  There are blues and greens, of course, but also golds and swirls and buildings of brick and skies and clouds and words, all portrayed on the peacocks’ wide fantails, with the imagination of several local artists.  Soon they will be headed to auction; their bids donated to a new playground at the nature center park. 

Familiar faces offer a glimmer of recognition, though they may not know each other’s names. Tourist faces crane their necks to read the dates on top of the 19^th century buildings, pleased by the pastel colors and frescoes.  Church bells peal; the streets are crammed with local buses, repair trucks, cruising police cars looking out for drug deals.   A well-known politicians passes and smile, with a freshly manufactured nod of recognition. 

She offers up an arugula leaf to the yellow jackets and soaks up the sun a little longer.