In the Park

Walking in the park every morning near my house is a true adventure and blessing. It is amazing how such a calm place full of trees can bring you such serenity while you sweat your worries away.

Although I prefer to listen to my own music instead of the songs of the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees and the lake, it is still relaxing and energizing.

As I go at least four times a week at the same time, I end up running into the same people. There are all kinds of people and although I do not know their names or anything about them, I feel like I know them.

There is the handsome tall blond man in his mid forties who runs in usually red shorts and no shirt who tilts his head every time her runs passed me. Mind you, I walk around the lake three times, equivalent to three kilometers, so that means that this handsome man tilts his head my way at least three times per kilometer. I always wonder what he does for a living. He can’t possibly have a night job because he goes to the park in the morning. His looks like a lawyer and imaging him in a suit and tie is quite easy. For all I know he could be a househusband and goes for a run before he takes on his daily household chores.

There is a very young mother who walks with her quite huge dog and she pushes a baby carriage. She can’t be older than twenty. At least she looks that young perhaps because of being small built. She usually dresses in the same colors of her baby. But what calls my attention is the dog. It is pretty huge and it seems like the woman is being pulled. I always imagine the day when someone is going to have to save her. Imagine if the dog runs after a cat, she’ll be dragged along with it.

My favorite person to watch is a black man who always wears these really short blue shorts, has Rasta hair and sometimes wears a Jamaican vest without a t-shirt. He always walks in his flip-flops. There is always a smile on his face, to me he gives me the impression that life is good and that for him there are no worries whatsoever. He reminds me of a Brazilian singer and there are some days when I am tempted to tap him on the shoulder and ask him whether he is or not.

On Mondays, there are some firefighters who park the fire truck inside the park, change into red shorts and a white t-short and run for over an hour in small groups. There is always one of them who carries a hand radio, just in case a fire breaks out in the city. I have never seen this happen and I am curious to know how fast they can switch into their uniforms and take off in their truck.

The most intriguing and bizarre person that I have seen is a guy who is full of tattoos. Full length sleeves, legs, back, neck, head, behind the ears and yes, his face too. I was walking behind him once and all of a sudden he stopped and turned around to walk back the other way. I had to keep a straight face as not to let him notice how shocked I was to see that his whole face was covered in tattoos. I wasn’t shocked because of all the tattoos; I was shocked at the fact that the idea if his whole body was tattooed had crossed my mind the exact moment he turned around. I kept on walking wondering why someone would go through so much pain. Then I started wondering also what he did for a living, where his income came from. But mainly I wondered why such a handsome man would tattoo his face.

There is one Japanese woman whom I admire. She must have had a stroke because her body is a bit crooked and uses a cane to help her walk. She always wears bermuda shorts and a hat to match her shorts. I have seen her walk around the neighborhood and when she walks by me in the park she always smiles saying hello. When I see her, it reminds me of how lucky I am that I can walk in the park without the help of a cane and see all these wonderful and unique people.



Photo by Meire Marion

( Dec. 2011)
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