Cicadas in the trees, chattering in their rough metallic voices. Birds hidden in leaves, squawking and squeaking in a language all of their own. Traffic rumbling down the road, honking in irritation at one another, racing to destinations unknown to anyone else. Women sitting on park benches, talking with a sisterly love and men escaping from the confines of the hospital to smoke in the shade of the park’s trees. Kids running here and there, unbothered by anything, not even the clusters of mosquitoes hovering in the warm air or the wafts of cigarette smoke falling around them.
Quiet afternoons, the temperature perfect, the sun playing hide-and-seek with the clouds. Sipping coffee and watching the world around me, life feels perfect, balanced beautifully upon the scales of known and unknown, past and future. In such moments, I am filled with contentedness, unplagued by worries. Simply, calm.