I am sitting on the park bench and my partner has gone to sit on the bank of the stream. I am laughing to myself at this wonderous sight, the inner galaxies of imagination, of unexplored worlds. My hand is partly covering my eyes, and as I move my hand, the scene changes. The solitude of morning broken and more and more kids run in unaware of the subtlety and detail of our surroundings. We decide to make our way out of the enclosed botanical gardens and leave the domed, carpeted santuary of visions.
People appear in sudden clarity out of nowhere.
A man on a bench, his head tilted back and gazing straight up at the trees suddenly comes into focus only yards away. We walk slowly by him so we won't disturb his thoughts. Perhaps he has a similar connection to the gently waving plants around us. It's quiet again. We come to a small bridge over a rocky area by the stream.