Saturday

We walked slowly up the short blocks to 5th Avenue. I taking in the people strolling by, the couples walking hand in hand, the young parents with their small children some in, some just out of strollers, the older marrieds their comfort with each other obvious. He talking of places that used to be, a coffee shop with a triva question each day providing the right answer with a free coffee, an ice cream store that had a phone to make local calls with. We walk into the park the light low, the shade comfortable in the heat of the first June weekend. We stand on the resevoir track, gazing at buildings across the park, musing how easily you could never know this existed here. I watch an elderly couple crest the stairs, remarking on what they've found. "I knew it was here, I just didn't know it was here". They walk across the track and stand next to the fence looking around, taking it in. Each wearing a neatly pressed button up shirt and khakis. There hair similar length, their smiles as they look around. I lean against a stone wall, marking the boundaries of this hidden water, watching them. The runners silently jog by, in synch with my breath, thinking of life, living and the future. The urge to close my eyes and take in the surrondings fills me, I lean my head against Matt's shoulder and slowly close them, slow my breathing and smile. I hear the crunch of the gravel, the soft voices of people walking by below us and around us, I hear the breeze fluttering through the trees that curve into each other, branches forming crosses and twists, I can almost hear the water laping against the concrete that holds it in, holds it back from rushing the streets below. "Do you know why this is here?" Matt asks. "No." I say opening my eyes and looking up at him. I smile and focus just on him, just on us here together. "It used to be the Mayors bath tub." He turns to me with a straight face. I laugh and close my eyes again, leaning my head back into him.