The day I first visited Greendale Park was the day that I had realized my heart's true desire. The golden, ever-present rays of the sun tinted the backsides of the lush grass. As the morning dew danced off the viridescent leaves of the scenic greenery, cool puffs of air ran through my curls, braiding it with the aroma of the vibrantly coloured scarlet roses and amber daffodils. It was so sweet that the fragrance itself tasted like sugar on my soft cherry lips. I looked up and from high above, I was a lone pebble in the eyes of the winged creatures soaring through the cotton dotting the azure sky. Sauntering along the bricked pearly path, I marvelled at my fellow visitors. In the corner of my eye, on one of the many dark brown oak benches, was a girl with four eyes glued to a storybook. With her straight jet-black hair delicately brushing the pages, her pale slender fingers darted along the book's contents as if she was on the edge of her seat, thirsting to see what was next to come. On the other hand, the features on her speckled face were soft and content with the soothing melody of the grey and tangerine robins' chirping. Suddenly, my chestnut pupils flashed towards a beautiful symphony. Joyous laughter boomed throughout the quiet park grounds. Plants bent to the dust of racing children carrying exuberance to anything that was blessed by their touch. I longed for that blessing of euphoria, to demolish these chains of sorrow. But the only place they didn't dare come near was the darkest-the place that needed it the most. However, standing there watching, I realized what I wanted the most. I desired for everyone to be blessed by that touch-to feel the invigorating happiness that this park brings me.