Stories from a Park Bench

Today I sat on a paint-chipped park bench in the middle of the city, just like Miranda. Jeffrey, the kind middle-aged man with no place to call home, sat down beside me and inhaled his nicotine as though it were oxygen. I looked the other way as a photographer perched herself behind a large oak tree, waiting. Curious, I walked to the bench across from me, sat down, and waited too. What kind of moment would she capture on film?

Five minutes passed and I saw a young guy with scruffy hair and a button-down shirt peeking out from his sweater. He held the hand of his beloved and led her to another tree with autumn leaves crunching underneath their love. The photographer anticipated the same moment I did. The same moment the girl with the soft pink dress and blonde curls did.

He knelt down on one knee.

Is it me or does every proposal always make you want to immediately start crying?

She covered her mouth with one hand. The other hand never left his. He slipped a sparkly ring on her finger, stood to kiss his future bride, and they embraced as the photographer emerged from behind the tree and the flash lit up their smiles. Memories to last a lifetime. The beginning of new love, freshly planted like a seedling in autumn. Ready to blossom and enjoy everything together, as one.

I love love. Maybe that’s why I write love stories. Maybe that’s why, like Miranda, I enjoy sitting in public places and watching the layers of life peel away to reveal such beauty. There’s beauty everywhere. We just need to stop and look. Listen. Wait. And we’ll never stop capturing amazing life moments. The kind of moments that inspire us to keep dreaming.

Till next time,

Marilyn