Near my house there is a public park that I visit frequently. It has many trees bordering the edges of a small creek. There are also many birds that I can not see but I hear their pleasant tweeting. The park is green and pretty with a walking path good for daily exercise.
As I start walking down the path, there is a small water fountain made of large gray rocks surrounded by vegetation. Clear water keeps trickling down the worn out polished rocks. The falling water and its peaceful noise running down offer a sense of peace and continuity. The fountain is a constant remainder that no matter how pretty the day is just like the water slides down the time in our lives also slides down. The only difference being that the water returns back up to the top of the fountain to make another run.
Our time slides down and it does not return.
As I keep on walking about half way on the trail I pass under a bridge. Sometimes the water level in the creek is really low and seems to be running very slowly. Just like stagnant flow. Other times the sudden rains flood the creek and the piers have water reaching up to their waists. Today the water is low and barely touching the concrete piers. It is a constant change. Just like the mood in our lives. Joy and sadness flows in our selves just like the water of the creek curls up and down towards its final destination to join other many creeks down at the sea…
Near the end of the trail there is a bench where sometimes I seat to rest and remember the past and try to predict the future. A silver plate with a legend is attached to the back of the bench. This bank was donated to the park in the memory of a loved one. Somebody walked in this park and was loved in life and her memory is still conserved. I read the message but it does not mean much to me. I see just the material thing; the bench. Was this person tall or small? It really doesn’t matter. Now that I rest on this bench I respect the human feelings of the one who put it.
In this I believe, in the human continuity and that there will be another me walking past under the bridge and will be surprised to the level of the water and to his mood of the day. Just hoping to be remembered with a little plate in someone’s heart. We are just passing by and must enjoy the walk while it lasts. At this very moment I am enjoying it. Is the water level in my heart high or low? It really doesn’t matter. My mental marker will change tomorrow.
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