I sat in the little silver bleachers looking at the empty blue tennis courts.
For a summer day, I couldn’t ask for more.
The breeze is so cool on the back of my neck it sends a little shiver through me. But the sun is bright enough I have to wear my sunglasses.
The playground is off somewhere behind me. I can hear the creak of the chains of the swings. And children’s noises.
I see a runner. A girl. With a red t-shirt and black leggings.
I see car after car coming in. People meeting up to walk together. To sit around the pond.
I marvel at the differences between people wearing the bare minimum, and others wearing hooded sweatshirts and long pants, with the sleeves of their hoodies pulled over their hands.
I ate my salad.
Content.
Happy. That in the middle of what the world might see as an average day, I find enjoyment in the ordinary. I feel the softness of the cool air and the warmth of the sun. I see people and have no fear of them. The clouds are so heavy and white, tinted by grey depth.
Then, I see a hawk flying above me. And I am briefly jealous of his view and his flight.
Then, I refocus on my own view.
That hawk, doesn’t have the pleasure of watching himself soar.
Or the treasure of my moment.
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