The Riverside Park

At this time of day the Riverside Park is a very peaceful place. The morning is beautiful with white, puffy clouds floating slowly by in a blue sky--the color of blue only God can create. The temperature is just right with a slight breeze...exactly what I need this morning. After my first week in college this semester, by the time 8:30 p.m. rolled around on Thursday night I was completely exhausted. Thursday was a long day. That morning, before my classes, I had to deal with a family problem that had me in tears, worried, and upset about the outcome. As much as I tried to concentrate on what our instructor was saying, I still had those distracting worries clouding my mind. The park is such a peaceful scene with the sights, sounds, and smells that often take me to a different time in my life, a simpler time.

As I sit here and look around, I breathe in deeply letting the glorious morning calm my weary thoughts. The river is full of life, with the sun glistening across the ripples in the water. In the distance, an American flag waves, reminding me to be thankful for my country and freedom. A lone fishing boat is scooting up the river, the fisherman, I am sure has dreams of catching "THE BIG ONE". When I was a child, the park had more of the majestic oaks and cottonwoods than it does now. There used to be a lock you could walk across where someone could sit and fish. I was terrified to walk across the lock. If I looked down at the murky water I would start to get dizzy. My imagination would run wild as I saw myself falling forever lost in the river. I miss the lock and the big oak and cottonwoods. Life is constantly changing no matter how much I would like it to stay the same.

I close my eyes, a little in sadness but mostly to close out "now" and bring back more memories. I hear the clickety-clack of the traffic crossing the bridge, the sound hasn't changed from my childhood, just more of it. A small child screams with delight while playing on the swings, so familiar, seems like yesterday when I was the one pushing my children in the swing; their laughter. the memories rush through my mind bringing a few tears, wishing just for a moment that I could hold them close in my arms, to feel their little arms wrapped around my neck, mother and child. The honk from an eighteen-wheeler on the bridge breaks my melancholy and brings me back to the present.

The morning has a sweet scent in the air, the kind that comes after a night of rain. The air has been washed and everything smells so clean. The fried chicken from a couple close by brings back the family reunions we used to have at the Riverside Park. I can still remember all the good food that was brought to the reunions. My Aunt Nancy would bring a chicken pot pie that had canned biscuits baked on top of it. I thought that was the best. There would be a table full of desserts, fresh apple pie still warm from the oven with a hint of cinnamon. The food was always good. As I come back to reality I realize there must be a rotting fish somewhere nearby. I quickly forget about the good smells from my past reunions here at the park.

Regretfully, I gather up my notebook. The time for reminiscing is over for the moment. A peaceful morning at the park has given me just what I needed to refresh my body and mind, has opened up my senses and made me ready to face another week.