A Seasonal Mind

A Seasonal Mind



Spring

Wind blowing in his hair, the young boy ran through the vibrant park, wanting to touch and look at everything. Yelling in delight, his eager eyes took in all around him. Clear green grass, birds singing, people and dogs playing, the fountains gurgling nearby, and other children like him, running and bouncing in this carefree world away from the busyness of the city.

The boy knew not of responsibilities, and the spring park seemed to suit him perfectly, as they both were young and free, full of life and new beginnings.

Clambering up a tree now, he looked down upon the world, fearless and undaunted, ready for anything. He climbed higher, startling birds, wanting to see everything. Soon he crested the top, and from this height saw the whole park, and some of the city’s glass towers that surrounded. He liked the park; he could run around all day, having fun. But he was hungry now, so the boy quickly scrambled down the tree, not afraid of falling.

Before he could climb all the way down he was plucked away from the tree by a man in red. The man in red passed him back to his mum, who started hugging him and telling him not to run off again. The boy was confused, but said nothing, content in his mother’s arms, already wondering which tree to climb next.


Summer

Running at full pelt, backpack dragging him down, he prayed that he would make it in time. It was very important for him to be at this interview as it would probably decide his future, and the opportunity came only once. Turning the corner, he almost crashes into an old lady walking her dog. She feebly shouted after him as he ran off down the street, but he was already out of earshot.

He wishes he could be like her. Not old, but with he had to rush to. No assignments and exams, no interviews and meetings. He was feeling so overloaded, buried. Suddenly he stopped. He was back in a place remembered from his childhood. An old inner city park, almost as he remembered, except it was summer and everything seemed to be dead and dying in the drought, the very air shimmering. The leaves and grass were shades of brown, so weak and fragile. Paint peeling off old wooden benches, the pond dry and empty. It seemed as if everything would break under the slightest extra pressure.

He walked the memories of his childhood, reminiscing about how he once saw this place, green and full of life. Then he realised that not only was his childhood over, but even the memory of that innocence was almost entirely eroded away. Just like the dying landscape, he felt dry and exhausted, on verge of collapse. He sat beneath an old, battered oak, head in hands, trying to remember life before.
 

Autumn

Dressed in jeans and a warm jacket, the man climbed out of the eco taxi, which began to smoothly slip into the light inner city traffic. A few years ago, ‘light’ inner city traffic was unheard of, but due to the environmental taxes, and the rising cost of dwindling fuels, most people couldn’t afford to drive. A bike usually suited the man just fine, but today was a special day.

Before long he stepped beneath the reaching branches of semi-naked trees in a park of rich golds and browns, an oasis left against the relentless expanding ‘Mega City’. Most parks were cleared out to make another skyscraper, and the man was glad this one survived. He remembered coming here as a teenager, even as a boy. Life was completely different then, more certain. Much had changed. A cold breeze tickled the top of his balding scalp, a reminder of coming winter. Dead, dry leaves swirled around in red, brown and golden whirlwinds, and crunched underfoot. Wherever he looked, leaves fell from towering oaks, painting a restful, tranquil scene for the park.
He remembered summer here, years ago, when everything seemed dead and hopeless. Now the park seemed on the verge of change, and the man felt this way too. This was not time for just slight changes, but for something spontaneous and different. Seeing her, he picked up his pace and strode over, smile lighting up his face, auburn leaves falling all around them.


Winter

Icy wind chilled his age-weary bones as he shuffled along the path below slumbering trees that reached their bare branches towards the night sky. In a heavy over coat, the old man seemed larger then he really was, but only by a little. Anyone could see he was a small man, and by his half bent over stature he wasn’t young. Many would wonder why he was out now, stars trying to glitter through the city’s choked air, away from a warm heater and hot food. But such thoughts of food and warmth were far from the man’s troubled mind as he made his way through the silent park, moonlight shining off icy crystals encasing each blade of grass, his frail breath a thin mist.
He found an old, battered wooden bench, a memory from long ago, and lowered himself down upon it. He looked around the quiet park, peacefully slumbering, and also began feeling at peace.

The man knew his time was now at an end, but he knew that there would be more beginnings after him, and there always would be more after that. He could see the new growth of a coming Spring upon trees already, and soon everything would be alight with life once more. People were born, lived, and then died, just like the trees, like all that lived. For the first time in years, he felt deep within that everything was going to be alright, and although things change, some things always stay the same. Settling down deeper within the bench, he closed his eyes and drifted into a sleep of a lighter darkness.