People scurry along, their hats and scarves protecting them from the blustery weather, the sallow sun casting a weak shadow across the deserted play area. Those who can no longer brave the weather take shelter in the cosy warmth of the café. Hot drinks are welcoming against the arctic elements outside. They chat about the inclement conditions, all of them looking forward to the first awakening signs of spring.
A lone swan walks gracefully towards children throwing bread, its perfect white plumage camouflaged against the crisp whiteness of the snow. Robins perch on the trees waiting for any scraps or crumbs they may find, their feathers dishevelled from the breeze.
The gates on the tennis courts are locked, they lie deserted and unused waiting for the first players of the year to arrive. The bowling green and crazy golf have an eerie silence about them, they lie like a forgotten town, deserted and derelict.
I leave my lonely bench now. The cold is seeping through into my bones, the blood icy through my veins. My thick coat pulled tightly to keep me a little warmer. Maybe I will come again next week to sit and watch the winter wonderland before me.
The Park in Summer
Children run excitedly towards the chiming of the ice cream van, its familiar tune carried on the warm summer breeze, the raspberry sauce dripping blood like down their hands. Families with swimming costumed children paddle in the paddling pool, their faces contorted with laughter and delight. Some baby’s lie asleep in buggies their rosy cheeks scorched by the heat, exhausted by hours of swinging and sliding on the park.
The trees rustle, their thick, lush foliage sheltering picnickers from the golden blazing sun, a light breeze cooling them down. Young couples lie sunbathing on the lush green grass, the heady fragrance of the flowers wafting through the air along with the distinctive smell of freshly mown grass.
The café are having a barbeque, the alluring whiff of delicious hot-dogs and hamburgers fill the atmosphere with a mouth-watering aroma. Empty cans of Coke lie discarded, along with ice-lolly wrappers, devoured by thirsty youths.
I can hear the sound of tennis balls being pounded back and forth on the courts behind me, people queuing with their racquets to be next. Elderly men have sauntered down with their bowls to have a leisurely afternoon game, their sweaters slung casually around their necks, their caps on to protect their papery skin. Teenagers lark around on the miniature golf laughing and joking while trying to put their friends off.
The pond is full of hungry ducks that swim around the lily pads to eat the bread, thrown in by the children. Dog owners are walking their pets; some are throwing sticks for their eager animals while some are relaxing, their pet panting in the heat.
My bench is full of gossiping mothers today, soaking up a bit of sunshine, while their children run riot around the field, their ball hurtling through the air like an asteroid. I will stay a little longer in the park today as the sun makes my skin tingle with warmth.
Kate Sherratt
