Even just staring up into the branches was a joy, watching the sky sparkle through shifting gaps in the foliage.
Long after the baby has grown into a man, he sits on a bench in a park in Japan, ten thousand kilometers and thirty-nine years from Lubbock.
There is a bench that I think of as my bench, in a park that I think of as my park. If I am not at home, not at work, and not walking around, there’s a good chance I’m sitting on my bench.
When we no longer need something, we stop paying attention to it. And when we stop paying attention to it, it begins to fade out in our active awareness.
© 2022 David R Munson, All rights reserved
Proudly Made in Saitama, Japan
