Yellow

I sit in a groaning, rocking chair with my old age around my shoulders causing them to stoop. I push out with my tired feet letting the motion of the chair sooth me while I count the passer-bys on the other side of the window.
The day is weary and wet, the unceasing rain turning every object a shade of gray. The only break in the monotonous color scheme is the various colors of umbrellas. There goes a large blue one, and a child sized flower pattered one, and a red one that had turned inside out and is now drenching the poor man handling it. Gee, what fun an old woman can have! Ha, that is the third green one so far, and look a pale yellow umbrella.
Yellow was once my favorite color. Like fresh butter on toast, or like the dainty flowers that grew behind my mother’s home, or the huge waving sheets on a sail boat at sea.
I close my eyes to the damp world outside and travel to another window, one that I knew very well:

There is no creaking chair here and old age is not my companion. I sit on the cushioned window bench with my strong back strait and my young legs curled under my cotton dress.
This view is what I long for, the beach and its sea. The late afternoon sun reflects in the waving water and the sand reveals its true colors.
The people here are not passer-bys, they smile and invite themselves in, or they simply greet with a tilt of the head. They would never ignore an old woman like me. But that isn’t me, I’m young and brave and beautiful here.
Now I see children bouncing along the beach searching for the perfect spot to build their fortress. The adults watch on while soaking in the warm sunlight or sloshing in the cool sea water.
The sun begins to darken as a few grey clouds invade the perfect blue sky. I can sense a storm is on its way as I watch the sea waves grow larger and less merciful. My heart tightens as I realized I should be afraid, but not for myself.
The adults on the beach scoop up their children and run for shelter just as it starts to rain. I can hear a plinking sound on the window’s glass and I know this isn’t a gentle shower. The clouds are turning a deeper graying purple and they are dancing in the murky sky. Where had the glorious sun gone?
I gaze at the churning sea, willing my eyes to see just a little more clearly. There! Is that it? I think I can see it, a boat that has a wooden hull and pale yellow sails, my favorite color. Yes, that is the one. He is safe now.
My heart stumbles as I see the precious sail boat get taken under by the murderous water. Numbly, I run from the window into a monster of a storm. I can’t see through the wall of rain but I know he needs my help. I have to find him. I have to rescue him from this horrid fate.
I run to where the sand meets the sea, ready to dive into deadly territory. My heart now breaking, I know I will never reach him. I know I will never find him. I know I will miss him.

I awake in the wretched rocking chair, my old age intact. The motion of the chair had stopped when I had fallen asleep so I push out with my feet to get it started again while I try to forget my dream.
I glance out the window in front of me now, the sky is clear and a gorgeous rainbow has placed itself in my direct line of sight. The beautiful rainbow’s hues varied from deep red to light violet, with a hint of palest yellow in the center. Yellow was once my favorite color.

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, bys, color scheme, cool sea, cotton dress, dainty flowers, favorite color, grey clouds, perfect blue, perfect blue sky, rocking chair, sail boat, sea water, sea waves, sized flower, true colors, warm sunlight, window bench, yellow umbrella, young legs

It is a normal spring day, and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, brown paper bags, business suit, colourful images, designer sunglasses, elderly couple, homemade sandwiches, innocent eyes, local park, lunch break, object of desire, orange ball, picnic blanket, rosy cheeks, running clothes, running shoes, silver hair, small bird, summer clothes, toned body

It is a normal spring day, and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shining in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, brown paper bags, business suit, colourful images, designer sunglasses, elderly couple, homemade sandwiches, innocent eyes, local park, lunch break, object of desire, orange ball, picnic blanket, rosy cheeks, running clothes, running shoes, silver hair, small bird, summer clothes, toned body

It is a normal spring day, and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the follies of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, brown paper bags, business suit, colourful images, designer sunglasses, elderly couple, homemade sandwiches, innocent eyes, local park, lunch break, object of desire, orange ball, picnic blanket, rosy cheeks, running clothes, running shoes, silver hair, small bird, summer clothes, toned body

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet there eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, brown paper bags, business suit, colourful images, designer sunglasses, elderly couple, homemade sandwiches, innocent eyes, local park, lunch break, object of desire, orange ball, picnic blanket, rosy cheeks, running clothes, running shoes, silver hair, small bird, summer clothes, toned body

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet there eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, brown paper bags, business suit, colourful images, designer sunglasses, elderly couple, homemade sandwiches, innocent eyes, local park, lunch break, object of desire, orange ball, picnic blanket, rosy cheeks, running clothes, running shoes, silver hair, small bird, summer clothes, toned body

It is a normal spring day, and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shining in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, brown paper bags, business suit, colourful images, designer sunglasses, elderly couple, homemade sandwiches, innocent eyes, local park, lunch break, object of desire, orange ball, picnic blanket, rosy cheeks, running clothes, running shoes, silver hair, small bird, summer clothes, toned body

It is a normal spring day, and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shining in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, brown paper bags, business suit, colourful images, designer sunglasses, elderly couple, homemade sandwiches, innocent eyes, local park, lunch break, object of desire, orange ball, picnic blanket, rosy cheeks, running clothes, running shoes, silver hair, small bird, summer clothes, toned body

It is a normal spring day, and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shining in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all

Technorati Tags: afternoon sun, brown paper bags, business suit, colourful images, designer sunglasses, elderly couple, homemade sandwiches, innocent eyes, local park, lunch break, object of desire, orange ball, picnic blanket, rosy cheeks, running clothes, running shoes, silver hair, small bird, summer clothes, toned body

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little to loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet there eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

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