The Park

The Park, The Girl, and The Squirrel |
Narrative and Descriptive Writing |
David J. Meeden |
2/14/2012 |


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The Park, The Girl, and The Squirrel
The day was cool and clear, the sky the color of a robin’s egg.   The air was crisp and stung our cheeks as we walked across the street to the park in our neighborhood.   As we reach the park sunlight filters thru the bare branches of the trees that surround us.   It feels peaceful but there is an undercurrent of excitement as we go thru the access gate.
My daughters laugh and race one another to the bright yellow twisty slide.   Their squeals of laughter pierce the silence like a siren.   I can’t help but smile as their laughter is contagious.   Who can think about the stressors of work and home when such joy is your background music.   The more I sit and watch them the lighter I feel.
They race around the park from one amusement to another like bee’s zipping from one flower to another.   Among their screams and laughter, cars drive by, other kids’ voices join the fray and the calm and silence of moments before turns into a cacophony of sound.
I see a squirrel dart from under the slide.   Its ears are up and its nose is twitching.   I wonder as I watch it scamper a few feet then stops, scampers then stops, if this is the thrifty little squirrel that has gnawed a whole into our green plastic trash can so it can partake of the abundance my family donates there every day.   It really is quite amazing how determined and resourceful my furry little friends can be.
Suddenly, a blood curdling scream jolts me from my musings.   My two year old is hysterical and my eight year old is holding her stomach as she laughs at her horror struck little sister.   Brookes face is as white as a sheet and there is a steady stream of tears leaking from her hazel eyes.   I
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take this in seconds and jump to my feet running to her side like a knight running to a damsel in...