just a little something a wrote, your thoughts would be appreciated?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about. Flower beds adorn the park, hibiscus, chrysanthemum, azaleas and more, a patchwork quilt of flora.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes worn to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her envious, an object of their sexual desire and manufactured jealousy. She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T. V.
The park, the people the scenarios all of them a postcard, a cliche of modern thought and actions.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

The bird does not know of racism, for it can not conceive that it is different from other birds because it does not have a mirror and therefore does not know what it looks like. Yes, the bird will sing louder, as the sun gives it more energy. Nope, it is not aware of you. It is only aware that it is hungry, and it must find food. The life of a bird is not as joy filled as you might imagine. It needs to find a full belly of food each day. It needs to compete with other birds. It needs to find some place warm to sleep at night. Those are the thoughts of the bird.

My essay, please comment?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Great essay!

"Consider the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn; and God feedeth them: how much more are ye better than the fowls?" (Luke 12:24)

Please tell me what u thing of my short story/essay i have posted it on here before and made some changes ?

THOUGHTS IN SPRING
It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Go to About.com and type in "writing". It’s a really good free site where you can get critiques and tips on your writing.

id like your oppinion of this little thing i wrote?

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree cuausing shadows to dance on the well maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed buisiness suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his moblie phone, a little to loudly than nessesary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound imortant to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwhiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her tonned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Her body is covered by tight fittting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexuall and envious.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young coulpe walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosey cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow i think, he is doing a little hop tupe of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, comming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustated if he can not get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? or will it break when oneday she does not return? Does he know of fear? will he cower in the tree tops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation. Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then i feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the follys of man, and yet if he is not aware i am eqaully sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

very good discription.in a small time u have noticed every thing of life mean to say all shades of life.i like the part of old couple very much and above all the part about the sparrow. i wish a man can like a bird so light so burden free and so much free to fly where ever he want.he is above the hate, war,bombs and boundries. u are able to write very good fiction coz u have lot of dreams,lot of imaginations and above all u have good vocabulory.keep it up.

Please tell me what you think of my story, i have posted it before, but have changed a few things?

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree cuausing shadows to dance on the well maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed buisiness suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his moblie phone, a little to loudly than nessesary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound imortant to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwhiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her tonned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Her body is covered by tight fittting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexuall and envious.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young coulpe walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosey cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow i think, he is doing a little hop tupe of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, comming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustated if he can not get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? or will it break when oneday she does not return? Does he know of fear? will he cower in the tree tops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation. Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then i feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the follys of man, and yet if he is not aware i am eqaully sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

can’t be bothered reading all that but thanks for the 2 points

please tell me what you think of my story, i have posted it before but have changed a few things?

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree cuausing shadows to dance on the well maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed buisiness suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his moblie phone, a little to loudly than nessesary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound imortant to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwhiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her tonned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Her body is covered by tight fittting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexuall and envious.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young coulpe walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosey cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow i think, he is doing a little hop tupe of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, comming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustated if he can not get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? or will it break when oneday she does not return? Does he know of fear? will he cower in the tree tops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation. Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then i feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the follys of man, and yet if he is not aware i am eqaully sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Practice makes man perfect. Next time sit in a Railway Station and start your story……………….!!!!

please tell me what you think of my story, i have posted it before but have changed a few things?

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree cuausing shadows to dance on the well maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed buisiness suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his moblie phone, a little to loudly than nessesary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound imortant to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwhiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her tonned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Her body is covered by tight fittting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexuall and envious.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young coulpe walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosey cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow i think, he is doing a little hop tupe of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, comming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustated if he can not get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? or will it break when oneday she does not return? Does he know of fear? will he cower in the tree tops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation. Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then i feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the follys of man, and yet if he is not aware i am eqaully sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

Practice makes man perfect. Next time sit in a Railway Station and start your story……………….!!!!

please tell me what you think of my short story??

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree cuausing shadows to dance on the well maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed buisiness suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his moblie phone, a little to loudly than nessesary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound imortant to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwhiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her tonned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Her body is covered by tight fittting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexuall and envious.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young coulpe walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosey cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow i think, he is doing a little hop tupe of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, comming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustated if he can not get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? or will it break when oneday she does not return? Does he know of fear? will he cower in the tree tops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation. Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then i feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the follys of man, and yet if he is not aware i am eqaully sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

I liked it. How in the world did you get all that on the page? I can’t get a lot of my poems on the page. You have some grammar/punctuation/spelling problems but I’m sure you can go back and redo those. I have spelling problems because I have dyslexia. Other then that it’s really good. Keep writing.

Please tell me what you think of my story/ essay. I have posted it before but have made a few changes?

It is a normal spring day, and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree causing shadows to dance on the well-maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed business suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his mobile phone, a little too loudly than necessary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound important to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Tight fitting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexual and envious, covers her body.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young couple walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow I think, he is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again. I smile in spite of my self.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Or will it break when one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation? Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly’s of man, and yet if he is not aware I am equally sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all

It is very good. I have corrected a little bit of punctuation and syntax for you. What do you think? There are no commas before ‘and’ and ‘but’ and avoid long sentences with too many commas in them. Use similies freely, using the word ‘like’… Try and get the object of a sentence and the adjectives describing the object in the right order and use paragraphs, it is more easily understood and reads better. Learn to proof read.

It is a normal spring day and I decide to have my lunch break in the local park. I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree with the wind blowing through the leaves, causing shadows to dance on the manicured lawn.The weather is good; warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.

The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and pass times. A man not much younger than I am, walks past me in his well pressed business suit, talking on his mobile phone a little too loudly trying to sound important to those in earshot, or trying to sound important to himself.

An elderly couple are sitting on a picnic blanket on the lawn, their silver hair shining in the afternoon Sun. Homemade sandwiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content but their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship; should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.

A young female runner jogs past them, her toned body a billboard for her generation. Her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the Sun. Tight fitting running clothes to enhance her performance and to leave those who look at her, envious, an object of their sexual desire. She runs past a group of teenage school kids and as she passes the boys mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls, who roll their eyes.

A young couple with smiles on their faces, walk past hand in hand. They watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosy cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face but for now, he is content with sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.

A small bird grabs my attention, a sparrow I think. He is doing a little hop type of dance in front of a clump of bushes; he darts into them, coming out with a small bug in his beak and flies up into a tree. He returns moments later to do the same thing again. The more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him. I wonder if he is feeding his young and is it just instinct that drives him to do this, or is it parental love. Will he get frustrated if he cannot get enough food? Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? Will it break if one day she does not return? Does he know of fear? Will he cower in the treetops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkindly because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? Will he sing that little bit louder when the Sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and creation? Is he aware of me, as I am of him and does he know of man, or war and death? If he is aware of all of these then I feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the folly of man and yet, if he is not aware, I am equally sorry for him; for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

What do you think of my short story??

It is a normal spring day, and i decide to have my lunch break in the local park, the weather is good, warm enough for summer clothes, yet not hot enough to complain about.
I sit on a bench under the shade of a tree, the wind blowing through the tree cuausing shadows to dance on the well maintained lawn. The park is a hive of activity today, an assortment of people, professions and past times. A man walks past me in his well pressed buisiness suit, he is not much younger than me, he is talking on his moblie phone, a little to loudly than nessesary, trying to sound important to those in earshot of him, or trying to sound imortant to himself.
An elderly couple is sat on a picnic blanket on the lawn, there silver hair shinning in the afternoon sun, homemade sandwhiches and cakes in brown paper bags, their faces are content, yet their eyes tell a different story, for after a life time of love, sharing and companionship, should one of them pass, the other would be truly alone.
A young female runner runs past them, her tonned body a billboard for her generation, her even strides cushioned by the latest running shoes and designer sunglasses to block out the sun. Her body is covered by tight fittting running clothes, to either enhance her performance, or to leave those who look at her an object of desire, sexuall and envious.
She runs past a group of teenage school kids, as she passes the boys they mimic the bounce of her breasts with their hands, much to the annoyance of the girls who roll there eyes.
A young coulpe walk past hand in hand, smiles on their faces as they watch their young toddler kick a bright orange ball, he squeals with delight, his rosey cheeks and innocent eyes oblivious to the hardships he will one day face, but for now he is content will sugar coated treats and colourful images on the T.V.
A small bird takes my attention, a sparrow i think, he is doing a little hop tupe of dance in front of a cluster of bushes, he then darts into them, comming out with a small bug in his beak, he then flies up into a tree, He returns moments later to do the same thing again.
Yet the more I watch his antics the more I wonder about him.
I wonder if he is feeding his young, is this instinct that drives him to do this, or is it a parental love? Will he get frustated if he can not get enough food?
Will his little heart swell with pride when his young take flight for the first time? Does he know of love? Does his heart skip a beat when he sees his mate? or will it break when oneday she does not return? Does he know of fear? will he cower in the tree tops when a storm comes crashing down upon him? Does he know of racism? Do other birds treat him unkind because he is not the same breed as they? Does he know of joy? will he sing that little bit better when the sun is shinning on a clear day? Does he know of God and the creation. Is he aware of me as i am of him, and knows of man, war and death?
If he is aware of all of these then i feel sorry for him, for why should he suffer the follys of man, and yet if he is not aware i am eqaully sorry for him for the wonder of life is a thing to behold and the joy and sorrow it brings is a thing to be shared by all.

I don’t think this should be considered a "story." It’s more like a description.

And your spelling is atrocious.