It was a Thursday afternoon, and I had decided I wanted to spend some time outside after work.
Typically, I designate weekends for recreational activity. But having been inside all day and with the sun still out, I embarked on the 20-minute walk to Prospect Park.
I thought about sitting on a bench facing the pond, but decided that was too easy. I kept looking until I found a grassy spot, partially covered by the shade of a tree with overarching branches.
The reeds at the water’s edge split to form what seemed like a man-made fishing alcove, letting rays of sunshine through and offering a view of geese floating by.
As I put down the blanket I was carrying and got settled, I saw that the tree had a yellow heart painted on it. It must be someone’s special spot, I realized.
I felt honored to have found it and hoped I wasn’t intruding.
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