Waiting without waiting

Waiting without waiting

I am sitting in Greenwich Park, beneath blue skies that are slowly streaking white. The sun is warming the bare skin on my back. The wind rustles the leaf laden trees echoing around the park in nature's own mexican wave. Lovers picnic. Families stroll. A lean and muscular Italian youth shows off his six-pack as he practices his soccer skills. Two pesky terriers stalk three ravens scavenging the grass for food. Beyond the Maritime museum buildings, the muddy Thames winds past O2 Arena and into the city, or away from it, whichever way its currents flow. Me; I sit on the grass in stillness and I write; pausing frequently to look up and witness this English summer activity.

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