Cartwheels and handstands galore. Girls sprinting full force into this fresh Sunday afternoon breeze, their hair chasing behind in every direction. Barefoot is today's rule, no shoes necessary. It's for your own good, I tell them with my eyes. Besides, this grass is terribly inviting.
Bodies twisting, spinning, racing, resting, both together and alone as people are scattered all across the peripheral. Playfulness is today's theme, I have decided. Skaters and bikers decorate the outer edges of the park. A celebrative hug is shared between an aging father and his beloved daughter. I can sense by their lingering embrace that this marks some kind of special reunion. With even just another second of observation, I can also sense that even in the midst of all their joy, the father's dreadful day has finally arrived as he realizes his little girl has grown up too fast.
Tiny drops of sunlight collect into each leaf's palm, and together, they hold up the light that gives color to the day. And then out of pure impulsion and a hanging sense of curiosity, several leaves simultaneously dive into the sea of the wind as they drift about effortlessly, painting a moving picture of raw beauty. And they dance in complete surrender to the choreography of autumn's breath.
Fall in Nashville has officially begun.