An old man with a scraggly beard enters the small park. He walks past a phalanx of three BMWs, one Mercedes, and a Lexus patiently waiting for their owners. The scent from pine and redwood trees brings distant memories of a place just like this.with his own family   A few children play on swings at the far end, others  throw a Frisbee on a central lawn surrounded by a mélange of colored plants. A group of women sit in a circle, animatedly talking, all dressed in fashionable nonchalance.

The man shuffles toward an empty bench near the entrance. His grey-streaked hair hangs down to a soiled jacket partially covering a dirty flannel shirt and pants.  He sits carefully and sighs, as if he has accomplished an important feat.

Trees filter sunlight over the entire area. Children’s laughter mixes with animated conversation from the women creating a symphony of sound to fill the park.

The man places one hand on the arm of the bench and carefully raises his fingers, one at a time. A grimace bites the corner of his lip. Gently he massages his hand and waits a few moments for the sun to do its magic. Again he raises his fingers, moving them as if playing a slow piece on the piano. A gentle smile creeps onto his face as he closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

The women’s conversation loses its lilt and becomes staccato.

“Jane, do you see that?”

“Of course, what’s he doing here?”

“If one comes, others will follow. There’s no stopping their kind.”

“I’ll put a stop to this. I’ll call Harry at the Sheriff’s office right now.”

Within five minutes, two 6-foot deputies enter the park and approach the man. They brusquely pull him to his feet. His protestations are silenced when one beefy hand applies pressure between the man’s neck and shoulder blade. His shuffling feet churn, trying to keep up with the deputies who usher him out of the park.

The children silently watch the performance.  As they resume play, their laughter returns, accompanied by the women’s animated conversation. The bright symphony of sound is reborn.

A perfect day . . . in a perfect place . . . with perfect people.