I can't wait for summer in the city! I love all the free

In the words of Kara Lindsay, the actress who has walked the stages of Broadway and the streets of New York, we find a celebration of both joy and community: “I can't wait for summer in the city! I love all the free activities in the parks that become available to us New Yorkers. Yoga and movie screenings in Bryant Park, concerts in Central Park - there's so much more available to the New York community in the summer! And everyone just seems to smile more.” Though simple, these words speak with the rhythm of ancient truth: that seasons transform not only the earth, but also the hearts of men and women.

Summer, in her vision, is not merely the warming of the air but the rekindling of fellowship. In the long winter, people retreat into themselves, shrouded in coats, hurrying past one another with eyes downcast. But when the sun rises high and the parks open their gates, New Yorkers gather together in shared delight. Yoga mats spread across the green of Bryant Park, films flicker against the evening sky, and the great expanse of Central Park resounds with music. The city becomes more than buildings and streets; it becomes a living festival. And as Lindsay observes, the simplest sign of this transformation is the smile.

The ancients knew well the power of seasons to shape human spirit. In Greece, summer was the time of festivals to Dionysus, when citizens gathered for drama, music, and dance, renewing the bonds of their community. In Rome, the long days brought games and spectacles, where people of all classes sat side by side, drawn together by the warmth of shared experience. Just as Kara Lindsay rejoices in yoga in Bryant Park or concerts under the sky, so too did the ancients recognize that public joy was the glue of society. The smile, spreading from one face to another, was the silent emblem of unity.

One need only recall the summer of 1977 in New York City, when, despite economic turmoil and blackout riots, the parks offered free concerts, and thousands gathered to hear music echo across the fields. Those evenings of song gave hope in dark times, reminding the people that even when hardship presses hard, the community can still rise together in joy. Lindsay’s words carry the same spirit: that public celebrations in the open air are not luxuries, but necessities for the human heart.

The wisdom here is clear. The smile that spreads in summer is not a trivial expression, but the fruit of belonging. When people share in free activities—accessible to all, without barrier of wealth—they remember that life is not only labor and striving, but also fellowship and play. The city that gathers to laugh, to stretch, to sing, is a city that strengthens itself against division. In such moments, people see not strangers but companions, and the streets resound with something greater than commerce: the music of shared humanity.

For us, the lesson is to seek these moments of connection. Do not let your summers slip away in solitude or endless toil. Join the gatherings, take part in the yoga on the grass, watch the movies under the stars, walk into the music of the park. And above all, smile—not only because the warmth of the sun invites it, but because your smile adds to the fabric of community, strengthening the bonds that hold us together.

So remember, children of the present age: seasons turn, and with them, the soul must turn as well. When winter bids us inward, accept the stillness. But when summer returns, step outward, into the open air, into fellowship, into joy. Be like the New Yorkers Lindsay describes: free, smiling, alive. For in that smile lies not only your own happiness, but the renewal of the community itself.