The first thing you notice about the water is how cold it is. Coming down from the mountains by way of the Hudson River and then through a maze of cool under-city tunnels, the water is cold and crystal clear, just like water from a secret swimming hole way back in the woods. Ducking into the shower of a open fire hydrant on a hot summer day is sweet, luxurious bliss.
I’m not sure who cracks open the fire hydrant on our block, but once it is done, the resulting fountain spraying out into the street becomes a community resource, especially for those with little in the ways of cooling themselves off on a heated afternoon.
Kids from the block frolic in the misty liquid relief. At least one person has set up a part-time business washing cars. Neighborhood dogs jump about in the water and drink at the edges, happy for the cool, wet respite. Hipsters, heated from moving friends in or out of apartments, wet their hats in a stream. Many passing cars slow to get a good rinsing. And when no one is around, the steady sounds of water hitting the pavement adds a calm to the block, as if we had our own public fountain.
Of course, opening public hydrants is an egregiously wasteful thing to do. NYC frowns upon opening fire hydrants, though it is legal to crack open a hydrant during a heat wave. The city does offer a sprinkler cap that can reduce the amount of water wasted, from 1,000 gallons a minute(!) to just 25.
Californians must view us with envy and horror, with all the water we waste (and double-bagging we do at the supermarket too). And we’d all be fucked should a fire break out on our block and the FDNY would have nothing for their hoses. But as someone whose treasures are not of this earth, I must say I’m less worried about an unquenched fire than I oughta be.
Take a walk out into the suburbs sometime, and the one thing you’ll notice is how many houses have lawn sprinklers, collectively wasting water at a similar clip, no doubt. Why does opening a hydrant carry a social stigma, yet watering a lawn doesn’t? Sure, the homeowners pay for the water they use, but in a sense, we all pay for that water. At least with fire hydrants, children enjoy the profligate tidings, rather than just lawns.
