pathling Saturday afternoon at Reading Public Museum – a red ribbon on the paved path along the Wyomissing creek, where a boy and his sister played with their fine German Shepherd puppy, the leash being pulled taut in the boy’s hand and I thought the boy would grow up forever thinking of running with this beautiful dog.

The ribbon, on the reverse side, included the name Melissa and an ampersand or the word and out of the left corner of my left eye the sight of an ornately garbed flower girl caught my eye the profusion of ruffles in her creamy dress made me think she must be from New Jersey. As I walked further along the way I saw a muscular strong man seated on one of the dedicated park benches with one leg crossed over the other knee. His attention was focused on a bride, who was in turn the focus of attention of a wedding photographer and she made a beautiful bride, tall and with a pleasing figure and a bright young face and I realised how I will never be that person and I meandered on to the wetlands to look at the display, which includes a photograph of the wildlife one might expect to see there. A heron picture appears here. My strongest memory of this very spot is of being here with my mother in golden days and looking at the ducks.


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