Peace.Gardens.

There is this tiny little garden tucked away in the alleyways of Yokohama, behind the houses, the malls, the hills, just a few steps from the hustle, bustle; it had four little ponds, each with these intricately carved semi-bridges under which blow fish would swim in search of food, and lily pads would float. I used to go there, after school, before I went to buy ice cream, before I studied my algebra or practiced my Japanese and just watch the fish. I'd watch how the tree leaves collided with one another and took in the smell of the flowers. It was so peaceful. I would sing aloud, talk to myself, play pretend and secretly feed the fish when no one was watching. ( we weren't supposed to). One day this couple, they were both probably in their 80's came and sat down on the bridge, their feet dangling over, he took her slipper off and allowed her to get her feet wet. He took one glance at her and she lit up. Completely. As though the fish, the trees the water, the beauty of it all was right there, written on her face. He took her hand, placed it in his and they sat there staring at the water for as long as I was there. Perhaps a few minutes, maybe hours, maybe until the lanterns were lit, or their feet started becoming cold. Perhaps they are still sitting there. But I remember-I stopped thinking, I stopped singing. I just stopped. And embraced that moment for whatever it was worth to me, at twelve. I didn’t know them, I couldn’t understand how they felt, but if ever there was peace in this world, that day. in that garden. I felt it.

And yesterday, if only for a fleeting moment, that woman's glow was finally rekindled.