3:30 p.m. Sunday, July 11th
Munich has been blessed with mild, sunny weather for the weekend, drawing the local Bavarians and Germans outdoors. There is a faint scent of beer and hot stone in the air, carried by a decent breeze to my corner of the Marienplatz. Ahead of me is the Glockenspiel and “new” city hall, constructed in the 17th century. A floral partition filled with imported sago palms creates a partition from a trickling fountain. I sit in a 21st century aluminum chair the shade of the trees, drawn by a curly-haired blonde German in his twenties. A little girl in hot pink is gleeful as he teaches her to make a hula-hoop roll back to her. Other twenty year olds man stations next to jump ropes, balance balls, and unicycles. They all wear a garish orange t-shirt bearing the words “Munich Frei Sport”, a local organization in charge of this outdoor playground. A mix of locals and tourists walk past and smile, some stopping to participate, depending on the time of a train departure or meeting with a friend. As the sun begins to bake my shoulders, the mother of the pink clad girl calls to her daughter in German. The volunteer smiles and walks her over to the mother, then kneels to say goodbye to his newly made friend. She gives him a hug—he looks surprised at first, then allows himself to enjoy it—and then skips off to her mother’s side. I make eye contact with him briefly, both of us grinning, aware of the unique moment that had passed. I gather my belongings, straighten my dress, and walk away from the place, but take the memory with me.
Love it.
ReplyDeleteOnly thing that would have amplified this scene journalistically is a photo of the playground in action. And, of course, the blond German Frei Sport hero.