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A Windy Easter at the Park

- Gabriel

The cold of New Zealand winter wind whipped my hair around my face and stung my cheeks with icy kisses turning my face a slightly red color as blood tried in vain to warm it. I hugged my coat around my body greedily holding in the warmth.  My sister, walking beside me, looked and acted a lot colder than I felt and I knew she was. Cold weather has always been much nicer seeming to me than the heat of tropical places such as Thailand. The leaves above us whipped around in the wind creating a noise that was a perfect background noise to the quiet of the public park, which is called Wellington Botanical Gardens and this is a link to it, http://wellington.govt.nz/recreation/gardens/botanic-garden. A woman jogged by us, red hair blowing around her oval head making her look like she was on fire. A few minutes later we started to hear the cries and screams of pleasure coming from the mouths of many little children as they ran around in a playground.

We crested a hill and rounded a corner before we saw the park. Swings hung on metal bars, which were stretched from one side of the park to another. Our friends sat on a bench talking with one another. Their daughter, Miss Z, ran with the other kids. We reached them and exchanged greetings before my brothers and I dispersed into the crowd of little people to play. Tag was agreed upon and Ezra was it. He chose me as his first target, rushing me in a headlong charge, head down, shoulders hunched, and arms out. Turning, I ran between bars and slides, carefully avoiding scurrying children. One of them decided to stand and watch me come instead of move to the side as most others did. I stumbled to a halt before I could trip over him and hurt him. His wide eyes looked up at mine and then he calmly stepped to the side. I mocked a bow at him and returned to running and dodging. Two hours of this and lunch passed before Mom called us together and told us that we were going to go down the hill to hunt for the eggs my dad and Miss Z’s were hiding them.

We went down the hill, Elisha, Ezra, and Miss Z, running on light feet. Mom told them to wait at the bottom of the hill and once we finally got there we found them waiting without patience for us. The wind blew their hair in and around their faces. The men were down at the end of the path in a little clearing waving us to wait. A few minutes passed and then they waved us forward. In that time Mom handed out egg cartons and told us our colors. Mine was dark blue. When we got to the clearing I saw many of the eggs laying about and decided that mine would not be among those but instead somewhere in the trees and the bushes. I looked around and then went to a tree where I saw a small speck of blue peaking out from a fork in the tree that only Dad could have reached, besides me, without jumping.

  Half an hour later we stood with cartons full of different colored eggs. I went alone back up to the park to use the restroom and when I came back there was nobody where my family was. I looked left, I looked right, then, I heard, “Gabe!” Looking up I saw Dad on one side of the next to our camper, which was running. I ran up the steep hill and clambered over the fence. When I had joined Dad and his friend in the front of the camper Dad leaned over and said above the roar of the campers engine, “We had a vote if we should leave you, we didn’t even remember you were gone, until we were in the camper.”

As we drove home the wind rocked our camper and made it slightly difficult to drive the Thunder-Pig, as we have christened it. Leaves blew across the road and were kicked around by the cars and trucks that rushed by. The sun shone down on the building windows and made reflections on the sun-basked road. Life was good and the chocolate was tasty in my mouth and for a while I was content with my lot in life. That was before night came on and wind rocked the camper and cold seeped into my bones. Then I wished for another blanket.

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