The Mother of all Naps

I adjusted the canvas shoulder bag under my head as I reclined in the cool spring grass of the park.  There were enough young leaves on the trees to keep the bright sun out of my closed eyes.  As I pushed aside all thoughts, the street noise gradually retreated and I found myself in that wonderful place between consciousness and sleep.  I awoke shortly, startled, by the realization that I had been sleeping on the ground in Philadelphia’s Rittenhouse Square early in the afternoon on that late spring day in 1979. 

After walking the streets with my camera all morning and consuming more lunch that I really needed, sprawling on the grass in the park seemed like the only civilized thing to do.  None of the many people strolling about seemed to pay any attention to those of us seeking such comfort on God’s green mattress.  I hope I wasn’t snoring.