The Intentional Park Bench.

The intentional park bench.

Sitting under a natural awning of deep green leaves and swaying lichen, I’m at peace in the neighborhood park. Looking in front of me, about a yard away, I see passerby’s, trudging along the footpath.

 

One kind-looking fellow pumps the pedals on his bicycle, taking a small, uphill journey at a leisurely pace. The sanctimonious marriage of synchronous footsteps are taken by a young couple for the second lap on the trail. A child of maybe two years, laughs uncontrollably at a mother’s insistence for her to stay under her cautious gaze; there is a large body of unbarricaded water nearby. But the child is happy, unaware of any silly perception of danger. She is in nature, and even at the age of three, perhaps no older than four, she is enjoying this.

 

So I want to call out and ask the mother, “how old is your daughter? She has a lively way about her.” And I want to motion for the gentleman to draw nearer so that I may observe the build of his bicycle. I would even like to give the smallest gesture of recognition to the couple I see now on their third lap, coming closer just from around the bend.

 

But woe upon one small trifle: this seemingly unintentional park bench. How I wish it were intentional! So set on being a small beacon of solitude under the awning of this tall tree with deep green leaves and swaying lichen. So unabashedly humble in its invitation to mere strangers, yet so wallflower-like in its reclined position and distance.

 

Were it but one yard closer to the winding footpath, I might have the personal pleasure of indulging in meaningful stares of knowing eyes, and awkward glances with raised eyebrows alike! I would wave hello to my heart’s content and my smile would most assuredly be seen!

 

My thoughts are cut short by a young child fast approaching. His bright red shirt glares past me as he roars ahead on his scooter. I smile big at him as he draws near. He pauses from a short distance and waves.

 

“Hi there!” I wave back.
He stops by me for a curious moment. I ask him how he’s doing today.
“GOOD!” He shrieks as he gets in position on his scooter.
“Watch this!” he instructs me. At this moment, there is no time for conversations, questions or any other words. He whooshes by again, a blur of red courage, almost toppling over, making my heart commit a free-fall.

 

But he’s fine. And he’s enjoying himself at the park. He feels emboldened by the open space, the vastness of the area, and the attention of a crowd of one: me. I cheer him on under the awning of this great tree, with deep green leaves and swaying lichen.

 

As the sun has almost set, I realize that the sides of my face hurt. And it is because I just now realized…I have been smiling this whole time.

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