A Walk in the Park

I recall, not long ago, a day so perfect. So perfect in fact that we decided to leave the confines of the small three bedroom apartment, and go for a walk through the park. We three felt compelled to be out in nature, so we left through the front door and began on our way to the place where we were headed. The day, as I previously stated, was perfect. The air was cool and crisp, with a light breeze carressing our hair, and the sun gently kissing our faces. We soon came upon a field, green and empty, with a forest at the rear. At the tree line stood an Oak tree, we came to it and looked it up and down, deciding, soon we found ourselves cradled in the arms of the great oak, its multi-colored canopy sheltering us from view. We could clearly see our path from the climes of this sturdy friend, the park was not far from here, we would soon be there. We retreated from our Oaken friend, continuing on our way. Not far from the Great Oak we found an old red brick path leading to a circular enclosure of trees and foilage, in the center of the circle stood a small birch tree, its growth had apparently been stunted for it was short and stockier than most. We felt that there was some great ancient power residing within the circle, some knowledge lost long ago, by some tribe of men lost to time and civilization. We sat, basking in the power of the circle, sipping the intoxicating beverage that would not soon have an effect on our minds or bodies. We left feeling quite refreshed, empowered by the waves washing over us, stronger and more intense than twenty minutes prior.
We entered the park soon after, happily following the lazy, whispering river. We walked nearly two hundred yards when we spotted a large tree that jutted, out of the river bank, straight over the water. We each carefully walked atop the half bridge, finding a perch and hanging our legs off the edges, peering out over the river. Down the way we saw an island populated by a large flock of mallards. The mallards were fiercely defending their small island nation from a group of greedy, self-serving geese of the Canadian variety. The geese relentlessly antagonized the mallards, hissing and honking, and causing a great disturbance to the mallards. The mallards however would not be so easily harassed into leaving their makeshift home. As the two groups battled for control of the island a pair of white swans floated by serenely, one appeared to be snickering to the other, with his beak in wing. Almost as if to point out the foolishness of the two groups, for they knew that fall was here and it would soon be here, and they must all leave for warmer climes. It was a hysterical scene indeed, twisted by the natural order of things. We ended our journey, feeling unconquerable, feeling like masters of the universe, as if in that journey we had discovered the secrets of life.