Waves of Grass
As I stepped on to the moist, morning dew grass. I noticed the grass was greener from last time I had visit Memorial Park. The weather seemed warmer as well. Although the cool breeze of autumn rolled down the grassy hills, the sky was partially clear with few clouds here and there. About two years ago, I moved out of state from Michigan. Moving to El Paso was a drastic change. I went from forests, lakes, rivers, large grassy hills, and shorelines, to vast open areas of desert and mountains. Being there at Memorial Park, with its grassy hills, and large-branched trees brought me a comfortable state of mind. The last time I had visit the park, I was with two of my friends, Sergio and Daisy. This time, I had visited by my self. The more I walked the parks hills, the more my mind was bombarded with memories.
After walking around for fifteen minutes, I finally found the stone bench on top of the hill I had once been to with my two other friends. I approached the bench eager to sit and look at the view, but to my surprise, the bench was covered in bird droppings. It seemed as if the birds wanted me to know that was their bench now. Out of respect for the birds, I decided not to sit on the bench. Instead, I stood in front of it and enjoyed the view. I remembered, a certain house I could see from the top of the hill. That house because it reminded me of a Gothic style castle. The house was dark grey in color with a charcoal colored roof. From where I was, I could see the house had stained glass windows, which added to the overall gothic feel of the property. I began to think how great would it be to live in that house. Right across the street from a beautiful and unique park.
My next objective was to find a specific tree. I remembered it wasn’t to far from the stone bench. I walked about thirty yards to down the hill and found what I was looking for. This tree automatically caught my eye the first time I saw it because it reminded me of an upside down octopus due to its wavy long branches and wide base. The slight breeze made the branches seem like they were actually moving tentacles. I then started to remember my friend Sergio’s attempt of climbing the tree. He proceeded to climb to the outer branches, and hang on what seemed as sturdy branch. I remembered he started to say something, when out of nowhere, in mid sentence, the branch snapped. He fell about six feet, landed on his feet first, and then onto his back. I became worried at first. He got up while laughing hysterically, which gave me a sense of relief. I then too, began to laugh at this memory.
There was a hill, greater and what seemed to me to be greener than all the other hills in the park. At this point, about thirty-three minuets had passed. The sun was well over the horizon and bright as always. The smell of grass became more prominent in the air. I’m guessing due to the increase in temperature and humidity. One could almost taste the grass. I at last got to the top of the hill where one could get the best view of the entire park. I observed the view from the top of the hill, admiring the beauty of nature, examining the detailed trees, enjoying the fresh air, and anticipating the memories to come. I could see my white mini van parked across the park, the gothic styled house, the large octopus tree, and even squirrels running from tree to tree, just like I once observed two years ago. Nothing had changed.
On the way back