January 16, 2016
In another time, there is a park with bikes, rusty handlebars, balloons, a red double-deck bus selling hotdogs. Here, the sun is often bashful and rain usually threatens, but it's just teasing. In the afternoon, you can sit on any spot and see an unbelievable sunset. Like a painting being created, right before your very eyes. This other time has gone away and in its place, a memory of cotton candy and wine-colored skies, bikes that fly, a mother sat on a bench waiting for her son's return. A boy overeager to share about his day. Hugs. Kisses.