Friday, January 24, 2014

at the park

It's Spring, warm colors are spreading in abundance now that it's the end of April; rich green, sky blue, and bright flowers. A young Irish woman with strawberry blond hair sits with a thick book, the book worn from the many days spent opened in her hands. Her back rests against the thick maple tree, her legs stretch out over a thin blanket, serving as some protection from bugs. It's against this tree that she has found the perfect balance of fresh air, warm sun, and cool shade. People pass by with their dogs, children, and loved ones, creating background noise.
She smiles to herself as her finger lingers over the corner of the page. She has reached a good spot in her book and is ready to put it down for a few minutes. She looks up, eyes green and sparkling against the sun, arms reach toward the sky, eyes close, mouth opens wide for a brief yawn.
It seems like too long ago Paisley visited this same maple tree with other books. Winter was long and cold and didn't supply enough natural energy. When she woke this morning, the first day it was dry enough on the ground to take her book to the park, she was anxious to dig up her Spring skirt, a short sleeved shirt, and some flats.
She looked at her watch, she had a couple of hours yet before she needed to head back home so she laid on her blanket to rest her eyes.
When she woke, a little boy about four years old with dark curly hair, face pale and beautiful was dangling a cricket over her ear.
Startled, she sat up. The little boy surprised, dropped the cricket on her arm and ran toward his older brothers.
"I can't believe you were actually going to do it! You're not such a runt after all.", the middle brother said.
The oldest brother couldn't say anything he was laughing too hard.
She quickly brushed the cricket off her arm. She looked in the direction of the boys and as the older brothers were tousling his hair, the little boy turned back, head hung down, a sign of a little grin showing on his face.
"Boys", she said with a smile.