The park

Walking is my meditation. When I walk without any particular purpose in mind, I like to look at my surroundings. I regularly find myself in wonder. I see the leaves and ponder how beautiful they are. The odd memory comes to mind. Today, I walked past the tennis courts that I used in high school. Memories came back. I was never particularly good at tennis, but I did have fun on those days.

My destination was the local park.

An old man walked up a set of stairs from the river, en route to the park. He had a large camera with him. Perhaps he was taking photos by the river. We exchanged an exclamation of "good morning!". He stopped to admire the river. I continued walking. Moments later, I saw another photographer, his camera steady on a tripod. The photographer looked focused as if he was waiting for a particular animal to come back. I have seen several photographers in that spot. I wonder what is there.

I basked in delight as I walked through the trees. I like to look up at the high branches. I feel in awe. I am small compared to the trees. The trees that have stood there for decades, growing while watching the world go by. The rustle of the leaves and the branches is the way they welcome everyone to the park; a sign that you are among nature. We are all part of nature. I feel as if the trees know me.

The path on which I walked is one I have been around countless times. A path that was once too long for me to walk, for my little legs would tire easily. Then I grew up. The path became less tiring. It is a path on which I have shared my dreams. A path where I have reflected. A path where I have played. A path where I have laughed.

I continue walking, reaching the sunny side of the park. The sun was low so it was difficult to see. What I did see made me smile. Light shining onto the vast expanse of grass. An expanse of grass where many a game of sports has been played. I looked around at the trees. I thought about the couple walking ahead of me; they walked at the same brisk pace, although perhaps slightly faster. Later, a family with a dog was in front of me. The family walked slower, the younger girl setting the pace. They kindly let me walk past them. I continued on my walk.

I looked up again at the trees. The trees are so tall; mighty. Beautiful.

A parent went to pick up a football from their child, walking through the wet leaves to retrieve the ball.

I stopped to admire the babbling brook.

Older couples walked by the river.

This day is unique from all of the others in the park. The park is so vast that every time you walk around there is a new detail in which to immerse one's self. Today I admired a particular section of the path, the golden leaves on the ground, and the light radiating on the grass from the low sun. I noted all the people around me. Together, but separately, we all went on a New Year's Day walk.

I wonder what I will notice on my next walk.