To the average person, the park sponsored a pallid sight. But, to me, it held a something much more connecting and symbolic. Nature was a precept to uphold my vitality. The branches, with their amber and orange autumnal accents departing, feinted themselves as if they were the hands of the ground. The chilly, white candescence of the snow matched the cottony clouds that encompassed the earth. In the distance, I saw a couple chatting and pushing a stroller together. My vision of them ebbed as they approached me closer. As they skimmed by me, I could see that happiness serenaded the couple, emitted from the couple, and was triggerable by the couple; they were not surly in nature. Even though the nature of the park was mercifully cool, the nature of the people left bystander tepid in the snow.
As the sight of the couple had turned into a brown dot in the background, I slowly circumvolved my ambitious countenance to face the right side of the bench. But, the frosted side of the bench was vacant. It was right when my heart galled my emotional complex. The memory of him was flagitious to my wellbeing. I missed when my heart was warmed during the cold, in spite of the cold, and after the cold.