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Summertime in Harlem is a carnival of sound.
Its the praise choruses of excited pigeons in the morning and the low ululations of cicadas at night.
Its parties and fights, church bake sales and tenant-association cookouts.
Its treble rising from childrens voices as they charge through playgrounds made of stone.
Its the delicate tones of bodega-counter flirts and the quick, sarcastic retorts of their regulars.
Its the unexpectedfzztand belatedpopof unseen fireworks.
Its motorcycle and ATV engines bleating in the streets like electric sheep.
Its car horns blaring in the late-day Yankee Stadium gridlock.
Its cop-car sirens slicing through the air like knives.
Its music traveling on every gust of wind.
Its Frankie Beverly and Mazes Before I Let Go.
Its SWVs Youre the One.
Its Oro Solidos Maria Se Fue.
Its Burna Boys Ye.
Its Pop Smokes Dior.
In March,the noisy city went quiet.
For those who couldnt leave, the spring, when the virus hit its early peak, was harrowing.
April in Harlem was funereal.
Bad news piled up.
A pandemic upsets gravity.
It becomes the focal point of every day, the protagonist of every story.
It burdens the healthy and the sick alike.
It showed us how its possible, if were careful, to make it through this crisis together.
(Typically, the police caravan accompanying the group along Eighth Avenue was larger than necessary.)
Across 145th, Jackie Robinson Park, with its Olympic-size swimming pool, is newly renovated for splashing kids.
The delicate business of getting back on track has necessitated quick, clever thinking.
The church on 114th started broadcasting Sunday service via Zoom.
Street vendors have added masks and gloves to their normal assortment of trinkets and accessories.
New habits create space for the same old disparities.
Beloved soul-food spots like Sylvias and Melbas are having to learn to adapt.
It hasnt all gone smoothly.
The threat of a second wave of viral infections, and of housing and financial crises, still looms.
Still, for a time, weve teased a cautious optimism from the pandemics deathly maw.
The neighborhood abides, through tragic fires, through hurricanes and blizzards, blackouts and heat waves.
The noise is back.
Skateboard wheels rattle across the cracks in the pavement once more.
Everyone is making up for lost time.
