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What
the park gives me
by
River Wolton
Interest
for the eye, the shapes and textures of the land; the land rising
up;
freedom from the blocked square houses,
the road and exhaust of traffic;
trees in their variety.
The park links me to other parks that Ive known and what they
represent:-
a time to get away, a time to play, a time without constraints.
Time to meander without purpose,
just following my own whims,
.my muddy footprints.
A particular tree or flower catches my attention and I alter course
without worrying.
The freedom of not following a map, of not having to obey signs
and markers. "This way, that way, turn left, turn right, dont
go there, stay in the correct lane."
In the park you can go whichever way you want all paths lead
in the right direction in the end.
If
the park was a person
by River Wolton
If
the park was a person it would dream of sunshine.
It would have infinite patience and understanding,
with tolerance for rain and bad behaviour.
It believes in the long-term: it was here before us and it will
outlive us.
It finds it hard to understand human beings,
how they want to neglect and abuse,
how busy their lives are,
how little time they have nowadays for the clear peaceful spaces
of the park.
It
hopes that those who walk its paths can wake up a little:
the blackbird singing on an ash tree,
the wind sighing against the hill,
a magpie darting along the gravel.
The land sends up small prayers for slower steps, deeper breaths.
Will they notice?
What
needs to happen in a relationship where things have fallen apart
boundaries broken,
things taken for granted,
where there is despair at the possibility of change.
A bridge between people and park, between generations.
The park is full of invisible life trees, plants, animals,
insects
each one with secrets and purpose.
The park is full of human echoes, ghosts, memories,
the ribbons of pleasure it still provides, constant without measure.
Each one has a place;
each person who opens their bedroom curtains onto the park each
morning,
who looks out with fear, or indifference or mistrust or anticipation.
For many the park is no longer safe, respectable or inviting.
The mud, the burnt out cars, the neglect that breeds neglect.
Each side deserves a voice. Respect.
The clarity of hearing and of being heard.
The attention and resources of the wider world.
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