Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

The City Park has always been there. Lonely tennis courts and baseball diamonds. I have never seen an actual game played, nor a team practicing, but then I only recently stumbled upon its existence. That’s not exactly true. I did visit once; with my sister and nephew, before law school and nephew number 2.

But after feeling uncharacteristically down after the close of RICHIE, I decided to explore. I walked over to the park with no more intention then sitting on bleachers and listening to the breeze, sorting through thoughts of the short-lived friendships and exhausting success that was a wonderfully magnificent show. But there was more in store for me than I could have imagined.

Paved trails. Wide enough for multiple bikers, but not wide enough for a vehicle of any sort. They go on for ages. They crisscross in the woods, pass beside the water treatment plant and just short of the new Wal Mart, under a main road, and straight on til morning. They are impressively clean. These are not the sort of trails for hoodlums and miscreants, but nature lovers and wellness enthusiasts. As such, I saw nothing but wildlife, runners, and the occasional biker.

On another trip, I had the fortune of just missing a coiled snake with the heel of my shoe. Close call, but he saw me first and slithered to the general safety of a rock further off the trail. A beautiful blue heron was next on my treasure hunt. It stood knee deep in a bit of marsh. I filmed him for a second, hoping he would fly away, but instead he turned tail and promenaded up the bank to the safety and secrecy of a low hanging tree.

It was quiet. The folks I saw were friendly, smiling or nodding as they zoomed on past my slow, shuffling pace. The weather is cool in the evenings and the leaves are starting to change. If only I can get my husband to join me so I don’t have to walk alone.

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