Split Second

So much can happen in one minute. Over the weekend, I took a walk to the park near my house. I sat down on a bench and just listened. Looked. Smelled. Relax. Just that one second I observed calmed me down and gave me a stroke of reality. 10/10 recommend doing this.

Split Second by Eva Piper

On the park bench, the wind was blowing through, wisping each little strand of my hair, like a hundred little dancers spinning and twirling, flicking around in that mass of almond on my head. 

A little boy, looking around four years old, crouched down to get in a position to go down a slide. A man was waiting at the bottom. I assume it was his dad. The little boy slips a little on the slick, blue plastic of the slide. In a blink of an eye, you would have missed his face fold in fear, his cheeks turning the slightest bit rosy. 

I watched an old woman in a hot pink cardigan walk on the sidewalk. She stops at a tree with a little block engraved with “In memory of…” I wonder who it is and her relation to them. A lover? A friend? A relative? A child? An enemy? I feel bad for those times when I was a child and I would play Floor is Lava, stepping on any surface off the ground I could find. How many memories must I have stomped on?

A little dandelion sprouted under my bench. Its petals faced the sun, almost as if it was staring in awe. I imagine it being a baby, dreaming about growing so tall it reaches that glowing ember in the sky. 

A teenager walked over the crosswalk on the road into the park. He was holding hands with a blonde, svelte girl. She stopped and bent down to pick up a Coca-Cola can. She whispered something to that boy. She sweetly smiled and walked over to a trash can.

Behind me, I remember a young man was leaning on a fence, smoking a cigarette. I ponder his story. What experiences brought him to this place in his life? There was a gaunt look in his eyes. I pity him deeply,

The clouds gradually gave way to blue, Elysian heavens. In an hour or so, stars would scatter across the sky, like paint splatters. I penchant the galaxy-looking night sky whenever it comes about.

The bees gamboled throughout the trees. Flowers blooming underneath them for the start of spring. I wish to live in a place where motley, ethereal flowers flood over hills. The golden sun would rise and aurify the land. I imagine the bees frolicking back into their hive, performing that arcane dance they use to lead their peers to nectar.

The birds sing their canorous song as they land on their chosen branch. Their dulcet and melodious singing calms my everlasting nerves.

So much can happen in a split second. I find my niche in noticing.