agallina9I came to the park today because I was feeling low and burnt out creatively and knew being in nature taking pictures and noticing things would help ground me. I’ve been to the park so many times and have never noticed the bench tag, and it feels meant to be that I found it today. I’m feeling very grateful and inspired by the white river on this spring day.
I call this entry” for there is no pen”, for there is no pen in this bag but I do still have an entry for this wonderful moment of reflection provided by you folks. I am enjoying this wonderful day with the champion knowledge of knowing that my daughter has succeeded in something that she ser her mind towards and I have reconnected with my wife over a sea of turmoil back to where we had started.. there are moments sometimes ,…and nature always provides it… where temperance of emotion can be found. Thanks for throwing a bench in the park with a cool little bag and maybe other people will leave a pet next time so we can say truer to the mission statement of you folks.
Today I was walking though the woods and saw a recently fallen tree. We had a terrible storm Saturday so I assume this tree was one of its victims. As I walked by I stopped to admire the roots. It was interesting to see up close the invisible part of the tree that expands below our feet in a vast network. I recognized that the tangles of roots resembled our own complex network of veins and arteries. It then occurred to me that this is in fact the tree’s veins and arteries. The expansive network that keeps this tree alive. This tree, once so tall, has probably been alive longer than me, is laying on the ground. In its last days of life. So I put my hand on it and said goodbye.
Driving back to California. Enjoying this beautiful park.
Left note, walked the park
I’ve sat at this bench so many times. It’s so peaceful, with the wind in the leaves and the light on the water. I’ve composed poems and songs sitting here, written stories, taken pictures…
Here is my poem I composed here today
I’m painting my room this summer
Pondering which color will I choose
The yellow it already is
Green or blues
But my heart whispers in my ear
“Paint it green like his eyes
The ones you adore
The ones that hold the whole world
And hold your heart
The ones that shine when he mentions the things he loves
Even if he doesn’t mention your name
The ones you always look for in a room
The ones that bring you comfort
And joy no matter what
The ones you’d do anything to call yours
Paint it green
Like his eyes
I’m with my Sister and GG. Taking a walk. We love here and come often Fishers.
I stumbled upon this bench this evening. Looking for a shady spot under the trees to enjoy a salad and some connection with nature. At first, I thought someone had lost their bag or left it behind by accident and then I saw the printing on the side, and I was so intrigued! The pages are damp and faded, but I read a few entries, and I left one of my own. Thank you for doing this in this big city, at the Broad Ripple park, I can come and sit next to the Banks of the White River, find my peace and solitude, and still connect with other human beings through your pages.
