It was my third lap around the water before I noticed her. Her wheelie cart grabbed at my attention first. I smiled considered the convenience of it. Her water bottle, a lunch-size cooler, and other bench sitting supplies right at her finger tips, easily rolled from her car.
Lapping past her once more, I noticed her stillness. Silver white hair, light sweater for the seventy-six degree weather, comfortable support shoes, and glasses held on by a chain, she'd learned how to sit on a bench. Probably earned it too.
Her fingers didn't tap at a phone screen or adjust ear buds, her arms didn't wrangle a toddler, and her legs didn't pace quickly by, calories burned or steps counted.
She'd mastered the art of stillness, a practice that escapes me.
Slowing just briefly, I considered what she'd likely noticed from her bench that my busy, scattered mind almost missed.
the bikes, the strollers, the scooters.
the well dressed and the worn out.
the meanderers and the fast movers.
the words heard and the words unheard.
the couple walking with pinched faces and gesturing hands, a life to sort through.
the overtired little person and the mom with teetering patience.
the ducks, the dogs, the trails and the trees.
the mom whipping out sanitizer and carefully monitoring steps.
the daddy lugging a cast off tricycle.
the couple kissing for engagement photos.
the weeping willow bending low to dip leaves into the water.
On my final loop around, I smiled at her, waved, and wished I was brave enough to ask to sit next to her. Wished I was the kind of person who found space for bench sitting. I'm guessing she has some stories to tell, some wisdom from a life that taught stillness. I didn't stop, but without words, she schooled me in the practice of noticing.
Ready to jump in the car and head toward my to do list, I walked on by, stopping once past her to snap a photo. To my absolute thrill, I watched as she reached into her wheelie cart and pulled out a high speed camera. With careful aim, her long lens pointed toward the water before her, timed perfectly to capture the flapping wings of landing ducks.
My bench sitting mentor was all that I imagined her to be, intentional about stillness, AND one who seeks beauty amongst the ordinary.
Here's to noticing beauty and lingering on benches.
