essay on a Sunday morning you spent in a nearby park
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One of my favorite things to do before starting my day is to take a jog in the local park. My mind will clear, and I will be able to face whatever may happen that day. It makes me appreciate the simple things in life a lot more. Jogging in the park during early hours opens up opportunities to see different scenes and portraits and open my mind to a new perspective.
Entering the park, a slight breeze rustles the leaves making them fall to the solid ground one by one. The sun begins to rise, waking the tired sleepers. Flowers are vast, and they conceal the freshly cut green grass. There are sun-colored daisies, vivid purple lilies, carrot tinted hydrangeas, and cotton candy pink hyacinths. The pathway is nothing more than dirt littered with random rocks. The ground, moist from the night before, causes my footing to slip, keeping me on my toes. There is a white picket fence that runs along the trail, reminding me of the one running along Marilla and Matthew's property in the movie, Anne of Green Gables. The park is barren except for an elderly couple feeding the ducks and a couple of fellow joggers breathing in the fresh morning air.