As I walked via the park on a crisp autumn afternoon, I could not assist however discover the lady seated on the bench. She was wearing a easy but elegant outfit, with a heat scarf wrapped round her neck to keep off the chilliness within the air. Her eyes have been solid downward, gazing on the floor with a glance of deep contemplation. She appeared misplaced in thought, oblivious to the world round her.
The bench itself was a sturdy picket affair, weathered to a comfortable grey from years of publicity to the weather. It was located in a quiet nook of the park, surrounded by tall bushes that solid dappled shadows on the bottom. A number of leaves had fallen from the bushes, making a crunchy carpet beneath the lady’s ft. The air was full of the candy scent of blooming flowers and the distant chirping of birds, creating a way of peace and tranquility.
As I approached the bench, I could not assist however surprise what was on the lady’s thoughts. Was she misplaced in thought, replaying reminiscences from her previous? Was she scuffling with the current, worrying concerning the future? Or was she merely having fun with the fantastic thing about the park, discovering solace within the quiet and the stillness? No matter her ideas might have been, she appeared utterly absorbed in her personal world, unaware of my presence.
I stood there for a second, watching her, and felt a way of connection to her. We have been each strangers on this public house, but in some way, in that immediate, we have been linked. I felt a way of empathy for her, a way of understanding that all of us have our personal struggles and worries, our personal moments of contemplation and introspection.
As I stood there, I observed the lady’s palms, clasped collectively in her lap. They have been wrinkled and worn, with just a few scars and imperfections that spoke to a life well-lived. Her fingers have been lengthy and slender, with just a few rings adorning her fingers. She gave the impression to be holding onto one thing, a small piece of cloth or a bit of paper, however I could not fairly make out what it was.
I stood there for just a few extra moments, taking within the scene earlier than me. The lady remained nonetheless, misplaced in her ideas, whereas I stood there, observing her. It was a second of good stillness, a second of good connection. And as I turned to depart, I felt a way of gratitude for having witnessed this quiet, peaceable second within the park.
