2/8/2025 Neko
One evening, I sat on a bench. The sky was dyed a deep crimson, and the early summer breeze felt cool on my skin.
About ten elementary school kids were playing tag. A few middle school boys and girls tossed a baseball back and forth. A dog dashed energetically across the hilltop. Smiling dog owners were brought together by their pets. A young girl pumped her legs high on a swing far too big for her. An elderly man jogged by. A woman typed away on her laptop on a nearby bench.
People of all ages, men and women alike, were spending time freely and openly. Just watching them filled me with joy. The air, gently brushing against my outline, felt soft and round.
As I walk through the city, I often see small neighborhood parks tucked into street corners. They usually have only a modest slide, and signs that read, “No fireworks or ball games allowed.” I sometimes wonder—what fun is a park like that?
Back in my hometown, after school, my friends and I would swing as hard as we could and see who could kick their shoes the farthest. We’d compete to see who could jump off and land the cleanest. We played kick the can and cops and robbers in big open parks. Our knees were often scraped, and our clothes always dusty.
Takaido Park in Fujimigaoka is one of the few places in the city where you can still play like that—freely and with your whole heart.
The benches are spaced far apart. There’s no crowding, and when you sit down, it becomes your own little moment. Just for you—or for the two of you.
Whether you want to toss a ball or simply spend a quiet time alone or with someone, why not stop by the park?