When the rush is over, when the children are on their way home, the toys in their boxes, and the sun going home too.. that’s when true colors begin to be seen.
The cheers, joy and games, wild and loud, loaded of childhood energy, may not let you focus properly.
And then, here you have it, all for yourself; the benches, the willows, the tiny pond.
If silent enough, you can hear the birds, the baby frogs, the rusty leaves coming gently down the trees, one by one.
Even the sheer violet clouds take their time when traveling above such places… like they’re admiring themselves in the water mirror from below.
A moment of peace, of nature and you.
So many shades, smells and textures when in deep silence.
Silence, like sadness is the one who will have books written again and again.
How many of those do you know about either noise or happiness?
Is that I’m talking about.