Dandelion seeds floating through the air like summery snowflakes. Children shouting with excitement as they run, jump, explore, and investigate the outdoors. Muddying knees as they fall, but get up and squeal with delight. Zooming past on scooters and bikes. Playing with bubbles, that glisten as they sun sneaks a peek through the clouds.

Butterflies, and bees, and dragonflies, flit about the flowers down by the river, too fast to snap a photo, as they fly away to the next floral spot. 

Birds sing from the tops of trees, and if you stop and listen you may spot a blue tit, or a chaffinch before it disappears into the dense leaves. Squirrels clamber up trees, out of reach of dogs as they chase after their tails. Crows command with call and they assemble on the wall of the ruins. A train passes, on its way to the city, another out towards towns and through countryside, that familiar whirring as they speed past. 

Conversations are murmurs, fading as footsteps take them away. Parents walk their babies in prams, wheels turning over the path. Traffic in the distance merges with the rush of water that crashes over the weir, as the river courses through. A plane loudly rumbles overhead bringing tired people back home. 

I can sit here and listen, and the world becomes an abstract of sounds, stop and close your eyes, and hear a symphony as nature and humanity become one orchestral movement. 

This prose was written as I sat on a bench in Kirkstall Abbey park and took in the world around me, as I listened with my eyes closed, felt the air as it touched me, enjoying this moment being calm and still. The snippets of film were shot on my iPhone as I walked with my dog,