Day in Chinatown

No matter how many times I go to Chinatown, every time I go it feels like I've never been there before.
It's like an onion you keep peeling.
Today I went to the bird garden in Sara Roosevelt Park where people bring their birds in pretty bamboo cages with porcelain food and water dishes. They air their birds the way we walk our dogs. They call the birds and the birds sing back.
I also went to a Buddhist temple and saw a tall golden Buddha with red lips and lotuses. People were bringing offerings of oranges and flowers and incense; some got down on their knees, some wept.
I listened for awhile to a man playing erhu in the park. He would take no money for his music. He was advertising his skill as a teacher and selling erhus from a cart. They had carved dragon heads at the top of the fretboard.
And I went to many wonderful stores, including one that sells nothing but chopsticks, including a pair that cost $600, and Pearl River Mart, which makes me want to throw out everything I own and start all over again with home furnishings like lamps in silkscreened paper shades in leaf designs and a wardrobe with a black velvet hooded coat with buttons like flowers and a silk brocade purse shaped like a Chinese takeout container.