An Open Mind

With an open mind, almost everything can be entertaining. I came to realize this while sitting on a bench at Baker Park in downtown Frederick. When you truly think about what it is that you are looking at, everything seems to turn into a book or a movie rather than real life.
I noticed a woman walking her child of about one or two years of age through the tennis courts. I couldn’t help but also notice that she seemed to be aloof to the child; focusing on something else entirely. There is a man in a jeans jacket and, you guessed it, jeans that gave him an overall rough look while sitting on a park bench with his equally rough looking little dog loyally lying on the ground next to his foot. When I walked past them, the dog didn’t so much as glance at me, which gives me the inclination that he and his faithful companion often sit on the park bench. Routines are often at the heart of every person, even the random man on the bench. I have also seen countless morning joggers running around the park, some commenting to their partner things such as, “Wow that food smells good” or “How long do you think this cloud streak is going to last?” At a remark about a food stand, I realized that some sort of reception with a presumably pro chef and his oversized grill was being held outside of a rather large gazebo. The people gathered around him were dressed very well, much more than I would expect, it being morning with overcast skies. Also, I couldn’t help but notice all of the children outside playing in the field or on the swings with their parents. This reminded me of how full this exact park was during the summer, especially during the fourth of July and the fireworks festival. It seemed everyone in town was here at that moment.
Now, it being the beginning of September, I feel a cool breeze that helps emphasize the cloudy gray sky, and remind me that summer is basically over. With that note, and as ironic as it may sound, two men are working on a cherry-picker to take down a large banner that announced all of the summer activities taking place around Frederick, further proving that summer is gone. Another dog walked by, this time desperately trying to sniff my leg, but the owner pulled him back. I’m beginning to wonder why some people are walking around, as if they have nothing better to do on Thursday morning. My focus is diverted when I notice that the large tree I am sitting under dropping acorns all over the place. So many have dropped that I don’t even bother to look when a here a clack from the ground. They have ceased to amuse me.
Something strange then occurred: the sun peeked out from behind the thick layer of clouds, probably for the first time in a few days. I was starting to enjoy the overcast conditions, as they remind me of my hometown in Washington where the skies were clouded over most if not all of the time. Anyway, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that a woman sat down on a bench just down the path and decided to read a book. Even through the great distance between herself and I, I can see that she is reading one of those popular ’Twilight’ novels. I am almost annoyed at the fact that almost everybody I’ve met has read this book and I am further annoyed by the fact that all of my friends and acquaintances think I look like this Edward Cullen vampire character. I guess I should at least try to take it as a complement, beings how all the girls think he is so dreamy, but I still don’t think I resemble him. It’s funny: pop-culture seems to change so quickly. My thoughts are distracted by a woman who is almost shouting because she is talking so loud. I really wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in a two-hundred foot radius knew exactly what she was talking about (I know I did).
At this point, I realized that our very lives can be something like a one of a kind book; a book without any specific genre. Instead of having a pre-determined genre, the book that is our lives can contain anything from tragedy to romance and, at the right moment, it can even seem like a fiction novel. In the end, I’ve noticed that there is a large, unread book right outside our doorsteps.