The park before dawn is a peaceful thing. The stillness goes beyond anything – the whole park is unmoving. The swings are silent, frozen even in the gentle breeze. The leaves refuse to yield, refuse to fall and break the perfect picture. Even my own footfalls are muffled by the wet, dew-soaked grass. Not even a slosh escapes the soaked earth. The only evidence that I was ever there is a thin trail of footprints trailing behind me, but even those rise up and vanish like footprints washed away in the sand. The velvet night sky is pure black, like ink or raven feathers. It’s so encompassing and smothering, yet somehow the sight holds relief, a new promise that everything will be ok.
The stars already gone away, the thick morning air is wet and empty. In the park I am so completely alone, unto myself on levels that I’m not aware of. Then, almost as if glass was breaking somewhere far off in the distance and the thin cracks could reach the stillness, it breaks.
Softly at first, a hum of tiny wings, the trees now dare to speak, a creak from the chains of the swings -- things that unless you knew the perfect stillness of the morning, you might miss. Then you see the sky no longer black as ink, but an off -blue so dark that you only think it’s black. The tree tops rustle with life, bugs walk along the bark, birds and squirrels stir, popping in and out of view, going about life in the sleepy morning.
Then somehow it breaks open completely, from only the soft sounds to the bustle of life. Sounds and smells come to life; the sun breaks through the night and warms the earth. The park is warm and alive now, no longer is it asleep and still.
- Title: The park
- Artist: sweetpea90b
I wanted to write about the park and this is what i came up with, Please read and review, l love feedback! thank-you for reading!
- Date: 11/03/2009
- Tags: park
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