A Sunday Morning in the Park

The Sunday morning unfolded with a calm that was almost a whisper. I found my corner of peace in the park, on a solitary black metal bench, cold at first, but which soon became a confidant to my stillness. From there, I surrendered to the simple, profound spectacle of nature.

The trees, dressed in a thousand shades of green, swayed their branches with a gentleness that seemed to follow the rhythm of my breathing. Further up, the sky was an infinite vault of intense, clear blue, a perfect canvas where only the cheerful flight of a passing bird was occasionally sketched. I closed my eyes and felt the warm sun on my face, while the murmur of the world became a serene melody.

And just when I thought that moment of peace was the greatest gift, came the detail that would etch it forever in my memory. A stranger passed near me. Our eyes met for a second with a slight, courteous smile. Without a word, he approached and, with a kind gesture, extended his hand. In it, he held a flower.

It was a beautiful flower, of a vibrant and cheerful red color, like a tiny piece of sunlight captured in petals. I accepted it with surprise and a "thank you" that felt insufficient. He continued on his way, and I remained there, with the flower between my fingers, gazing at that red speck against the green of the foliage and the blue of the sky.

That anonymous flower, that spontaneous gesture of beauty and kindness from a stranger, suddenly became the most beautiful part of the day. It wasn't just a gift of a plant, but a reminder: beauty lies in the small details, and human kindness blossoms in the most unexpected places.
That Sunday morning, the park didn't just give me peace; it handed me, in a silent gesture, a lesson in beauty and a spark of faith in the human soul.

Recursos empleados

RECURSO / RESOURCE	FUENTE / SOURCE
Edición / Edition:	Photoshop
Texto / Text:	@claudiabook
Imágenes / Pictures:	Samsung A12