...with my park.
Is it possible to adore a place?
My favorite park is a living creature with a spirit and a sentience all its own. Paths wind below huge calming trees. Squirrels leap and chatter. The fresh air soothes and revives me. Blossoms twirl their colored arms in their own special dance of welcome.
In the park, I am calm. I feel relaxed and hopeful. What is, is. What will be, will be. Time shifts form, in a malleable, promising swirl.
I go to the park faithfully, as often as my schedule permits. Sometimes I read there; other times I write. I walk for exercise and to expand into the vastness. The soft grass under my favorite pine is by far the best place for Tarot reading or simply musing.
I was at the park Tuesday, eating my lunch in the open air. A nice break in a long day of writing and tasks. Before I started my walk, I set an Intention, this one a wish without conscious thought or words, simply a half-formed inclination contained in a motion.
Immediately my eye fell open a lost fortune lying in my path. The distinctive white rectangle of proclamation gleamed against the dusty brown.
"Be prepared to modify your plans," it declared.
Okay by me. I have only the vaguest outline of plans anyway. Honestly, I'm not sure if I could even tell if they WERE modified.
A bit further on, I picked up some trash under the old walnut tree and found a discarded perfume sample shaped like a bottle. REALITIES, it said.
Exactly, I thought.
It continued, "Live in the moment, every chance you get."
Which is precisely what I'm doing.
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