Summer makes its many noises - natural and human made. I hear the constant "chit chit chit" of the chitmunk, (chipmunk.) The whirr, thrum, rumble of cars on the busy city street, even the chirrup, whistle, song of some birds. I went to the park hoping to remove myself a bit from the city sounds in order to surround myself with the noise and quiet of nature. Unfortunately the state park near town is along one of the highways. The sound of traffic was louder and steadier than hear at the apartment. The park staff were also busy mowing and weed eating. The park is a highly groomed park, all lawn and trees ringed by metal fences. I did not remain at the park more than an hour, for I found the constant machine sounds aggravating and the groomed quality off putting.
I did meander my way to another park, closer to the city further from the highways. The park was quieter. The river ran along both parks, and the second park afforded views of herons wading and catching the occasional fish; birds singing from the treetops and a wary groundhog foraging on the far side of the field. I rode my bike along the one-way road dissecting the park. I stopped when the landscape inspired a photo. The urban world occupied the periphery at all times: a rusted train bridge crossing the water, a parked car along the road edge, families on bicycles, motorcycles slowly passing along the narrow road, abandoned train cars stopped on the tracks, power lines, a grain processing silo towering over the trees, glimpses of the city skyline in the distance... Nonetheless, the park felt less tended, the remnants of city life quieter, slower, more blended with the setting.
After biking, walking and taking many photos, I stopped to sit and read for awhile. Since childhood I have loved finding a nook under a tree, preferably in the woods, and hunkering down to read. My spirit tethered to the self through the tree, soars free in the imaginary world of the book.
I moved to the orchard in the arboretum, attached to the wilder portion of the park, and knitted while watching robins, starlings, songbirds and butterflies flit about under and in the trees. I enjoyed the tranquil time spent with the trees. I also felt a longing for kindred spirits - friends with whom I could spend an afternoon talking, laughing, playing, being together in the natural areas of town. My contentment is only partial while I have no folks to share pass times, adventures, and explorations.
I am thankful for my knitting community - for friendships are forging beyond the topic of yarn and pattern.
I did meander my way to another park, closer to the city further from the highways. The park was quieter. The river ran along both parks, and the second park afforded views of herons wading and catching the occasional fish; birds singing from the treetops and a wary groundhog foraging on the far side of the field. I rode my bike along the one-way road dissecting the park. I stopped when the landscape inspired a photo. The urban world occupied the periphery at all times: a rusted train bridge crossing the water, a parked car along the road edge, families on bicycles, motorcycles slowly passing along the narrow road, abandoned train cars stopped on the tracks, power lines, a grain processing silo towering over the trees, glimpses of the city skyline in the distance... Nonetheless, the park felt less tended, the remnants of city life quieter, slower, more blended with the setting.
After biking, walking and taking many photos, I stopped to sit and read for awhile. Since childhood I have loved finding a nook under a tree, preferably in the woods, and hunkering down to read. My spirit tethered to the self through the tree, soars free in the imaginary world of the book.
I moved to the orchard in the arboretum, attached to the wilder portion of the park, and knitted while watching robins, starlings, songbirds and butterflies flit about under and in the trees. I enjoyed the tranquil time spent with the trees. I also felt a longing for kindred spirits - friends with whom I could spend an afternoon talking, laughing, playing, being together in the natural areas of town. My contentment is only partial while I have no folks to share pass times, adventures, and explorations.
I am thankful for my knitting community - for friendships are forging beyond the topic of yarn and pattern.
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