There was a family behind me on a bridge. The dad and two boys (maybe 6 and 8) were holding fishing line with meat tied on one end. They were catching crawdads. The mom stood by actively engaged in her watching, one hand on a stroller where the nine month old girl sat kicking and waving. They were one of the happiest families I've seen in a long time.
As I left the park, the mom asked me about my toe-shoes. She thought they were cute and wondered if they are comfortable. When I told them that I'd appreciated listening to their laughter, the dad said he thought he was having more fun than the boys. Witnessing them enjoy one another blessed me.
I spent most of the time at the park sitting on a bench near the pond, writing. A muskrat swam the surface of the water occasionally, bats dove and I let myself be still, watching the ripples shift under the dusk shadows.
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