Walking through the park
This morning I walked through the park with my son — he was riding his bike, I was drinking my favourite coffee and the sun was shining.
The world, it seemed, was at a stand-still. Everyone else must've been indoors opening their Christmas presents.
I spotted a man sitting on a park bench reading The Secret History by Donna Tartt, one of my all-time favourite works of fiction. He nodded and smiled as I passed. I waved.
My son stopped, looked back at me and asked... "Can I go on Dad?"
We were close to home.
I smiled and nodded assuringly towards him as he rode off. I watched his gangly nine-year-old legs peddle as hard as they could — he was smiling the smile that only he can smile — the smile that fills my heart with the anything-is-possible kind of feeling.
As we worked our way through the local park — beautiful, green, lush — I passed a woman I knew from our neighbourhood, she smiled and said hello as her Golden Labrador licked my leg. We chatted about the joy of the after-hours drinks we had last night at our local deli with a small and intimate group of neighbours — impromptu, cordial and happy.
We parted ways and wished one another a wonderful day. She was going to spend the day with family.
I remembered my own Golden Labrador from years ago — a special member of our little family back then.
I sipped my coffee and the coffee smelt great.
The sky was blue.
The sun was shining.
And work was a fading memory... actually, work didn't matter that much today.
Whether you're celebrating Christmas today, or not — take a walk through the park and savour it.