Saturday, June 14, 2008

We all went to the park today, and the kids played for hours. While I watched Willow running through the spray in the water play area, a man nearby was singing sad songs in Spanish. I don't understand enough Spanish to tell you exactly what the songs were about, but his tone was plaintive. He broke the illusion of mystery by occasionally interrupting himself to talk on his cell phone. I think he was also listening to an I-pod. It was a strange juxtaposition, the quiet songs and the loud, laughing, children; the old and the new. Observing more carefully, I could see that even this sad singer of songs had a child there somewhere. Even though his feet were planted firmly on cement, they were buried in sand.

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