The Rube had to go make himself another coffee just looking at these pictures ... From his first visit to Stuyvesant Square, he has been impressed by the profound sense of peacefulness that comes over him here ... and of time ... many many suns and moons ... stretching back to Peter Stuyvesant on his farm (statue of him, by Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, at rear of photo)... and that not really not being so long ago ... this time, the Rube drowsed on his bench, and when he awoke, he had a long white beard, people were dressed funny, and his camera was dead and the battery all corroded ... and he panicked because now NYCJPG was 7,300 pictures behind schedule, not counting leap years.

Luckily that last part turned out just to be a dream. And the Rube on this last visit is starting to suspect the source of the spell to be the park's fountain, the laziest he has encountered in this series, the water spout perpetually faltering -- blup blup BLUP, blup blup BLUP -- (2-jpg) like the stream from a hose when you have shut off the water. It's rivaled only by an even feebler twin fountain across Second Avenue in Stuyvesant Square East (3-jpg).