It's a warm spring day in Kansas City and I am lying under a tall tree in Jacob L. Loose Park.
With my line of sight little higher than the lush green lawn I see the city from a new perspective. The lawn seems like a metropolis of grass edifices trembling in the comforting breeze. They seem to dwarf the actual skyscrapers that serve as their back-drop. And as I look up toward the hazy blue sky, my view of the light is filtered by the skinny boughs of the tree that shades me. It is obvious that the winter has only recently passed, but the naked branches are starting to show signs of new life springing up in the form of butter-coloured blossoms.
My bag serves as a pillow and the wind is leafing through the pages of the magazine resting on my tummy. That rustling sound and the threat if it blowing away all together keep me present in this moment.
The guy on my iPod is singing about God being a dad who wants to take care of his little ones: us. Somehow lying here, amongst everything I've just described makes it a little easier to believe that. He surely didn't create all this to do me harm...
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