The clouds in the sky create a nice cool blanket from the hot sun. I can smell the rain that was once falling. The sound from the cars and the people create a nice little harmony that one could easily lay down and relax to. Not too far off in the distance I see the old softball stadium. And scattered around the park are huge oak trees. I can also see the playground, and the muddy path that the runners take. Now, the clouds are breaking and shinning just a hint of sun into this wonderful picture. The temperature is one that is dreamed of on the hottest and the coldest days. It is not to hot, and it is definitely not to cold. This new sunlight seems to change the color of everything. The grass which was once a forest green has now turned into green. The trees which seemed dark at first, now actually resembles brown bark and green leaves. Even the metal fence that goes around the softball stadium has turned from grey into silver. There seems to be more movement now, and I hear a bird chirp every so often. The sun seems to be playing hide-and-go-seek with the clouds. I could definitely spend all day at this heavenly place.              The clouds imprison the sun. The trees, in the breeze, shake like little kids on their first day of school. The sound of the cars and people remind you of how busy the world is. An old abandoned softball stadium looks as though it hasna €™t seen a player in years. The playground, that once held the smiling faces of children, now too is as lonesome as an old widow. The rain has left behind puddles. The mud, as if it were quicksand, waits for peoplea €™s feet. The mix of the humid air and the smog from the cars seems to clog my nose. This dark day makes me feel like I am lost in eternity.              The icy wind whistles through the finger like branches of the bare trees, a light covering of snow lying heavily on their extremities.  Brittle autumn leaves dance dramatically around in a great swirl of colour .  
Children are skating on the icy surface of the pond making large cracks like gaping wounds.  Sledges hurtle down the piebald hills, rosy faces glowing and laughing, amidst the flurry of ice particles.  Snowball throwing children cry with pain, their swollen red fingers throbbing with cold, their gloves wet and icy.  An isolated snowman looks out over the glacial landscape, its coal eyes surveying all before it, somebody's old bob-cap perched crookedly on its cold head.  
People scurry along, their hats and scarves protecting them from the blustery weather, the sallow sun casting a weak shadow across the deserted play area.  Those who can no longer brave the weather take shelter in the cosy warmth of the cafe.  Hot drinks are welcoming against the arctic elements outside.  They chat about the inclement conditions, all of them looking forward to the first awakening signs of spring.  
A lone swan walks gracefully towards children throwing bread, its perfect white plumage camouflaged against the crisp whiteness of the snow.   Robins perch on the trees waiting for any scraps or crumbs they may find, their feathers dishevelled from the breeze.  
The gates on the tennis courts are locked, they lie deserted and unused waiting for the first players of the year to arrive.  The bowling green and crazy golf have an eerie silence about them, they lie like a forgotten town, deserted and derelict.  
I leave my lonely bench now. The cold is seeping through into my bones, the blood icy through my veins.  My thick coat pulled tightly to keep me a little warmer.  Maybe I will come again next week to sit and watch the winter wonderland before me.
C hildren run excitedly towards the chiming of the ice cream van, its familiar tune carried on the warm summer breeze, the raspberry sauce dripping blood like down their hands.  Families with swimming costumed children paddle in the paddling pool, their faces contorted with laughter and delight. Some baby's lie