A Spring Affair

I lean back on the bench and take another sip of my chilled citric drink. The taste is sweet enough to be pleasant and sour enough to snap me out of reverie. It’s finally the weekend and instead of sleeping in I’ve decided to visit the nearby park and revel in the fresh summer morning.

I stretch out my limbs and bask under the gentle morning sun, taking deep breaths of the crisp and floral-scented air. I’m given company by a fellow early morning stragglers who are either jogging along the tessellated pavement or are stretched out on the grass in idyllic daydream.

The morning is serene and peaceful. My rock of solitude overlooks a vast lake, whose surface sparkles like jewels under the gentle rays. The still surface is occasionally broken by the gentle paddling of ducks, their copper feathers tinged with tints of gold and red. Their movements are graceful and harmonious and no doubt would be the envy of any synchronized swimming team.

As I walk barefooted on the damp and crunchy grass I observe the trees swaying gently in the warm wind, their branches and leaves singing melodiously. My eyes hungrily search out bursts of fuchsia proudly displaying their assorted hues, giving out an ambrosial scent. I absorb the simple yet charming beauty around me, determined to take everything in until the park gets rampant by a boisterous crowd.