The Tree Helps Me Think

I have a night class once a week.

It’s a short bus ride into town. And a shorter walk through the park. The cool breeze greets me.

Then I see him.

A middle-aged man. Sitting cross-legged, comfortably at the foot of a tree. Its shape embraces him. They belong together, like old friends.

“You have a great spot,” I say.

“The tree helps me think,” he replies.

I smile and nod in agreement. A few minutes later, I approach the wooden seat next to the duck pond. But a couple want their friend to take photos of them on the bridge. So I leave them to enjoy themselves.

And find a tree to sit under.

Yesterday felt rushed. The rest of the week looks hectic. But right now, I can sit in peace, and write this blog post.