Right now all I have is time to think about what I have seen. I have seen so much. I lived in a place where I could watch people. I once looked upon a little boy. He first came and I watched him crawl around, feeling the difference between the concrete, the woodchips, the rocks, the grass. He ate a few rocks. He came back almost every day while I had nothing else to do but watch. I watched him get taken roughly by a girl who was not the one normally bringing him. I did not see him again.

I saw one who had either many brothers her age or a new fling every day. She would always bring them where I was. She had the same routine with each, first she would walk up the sidewalk with her arms behind her back, swinging her hips just enough, until they get to the dead end with a trail. She would stop, look up the trail, and say “Maybe we could bike that someday” while turning around to lead her victim back up the sidewalk. Then she would get all giggly while running to the playground, after touching the boy on the chest and yelling “TAG!” Some boys followed her with a smile on their face, others looked in disdain. She only stayed longer with the ones who followed. They would run around for a little while until she collapsed of being “tired”. The boys all came to her and helped her up, letting her lean on them, until they found a bench to sit on. They would stay for a little while talking, and eventually she would say “Wanna go to my favorite coffee place?” and they would leave. Each day, a different one.

There were the ones I saw only for a brief time, only once. A little girl who just got a skateboard and was so excited ten minutes in when she finally rode it on her own. A mother who came to walk the trail with her baby in a stroller once. An ambulance came and took her and her kid away. There was an old man once, he loved when the squirrels came down and ate the seeds. I could tell from the smile that would raise his mustache just the slightest. Many kids, most normal. One very notable one always found an interesting way to play. He climbed up the slide, hung upside down off of the roof of the equipment, swung on the pebble bridge. His dad was always right there, and yet, his dad always encouraged him to play the way he wanted to.

I have been trapped in this small world, observing. Now I can explore. I finally am able to witness more memories in making, more love, more happiness. I said goodbye to the place I have called my home, and flew away to find another morpho butterfly to share my stories with.