Marshall’s Autumn Stroll

a vignette

The steps of the church were cold and hard as Marshall sat down. His long stroll through the autumn filled streets landed him here. His legs were tired and his back sore. He sat down and let out a big sigh. The leaves on the trees were bright oranges and yellows. Usually, Marshall enjoyed when the sunlight hit them on its way to the concrete floor, but today, there was no sunshine. The grey of late autumn had begun to set in and Marshall was forced to accept the changing leaves as good enough.

Marshall walked by this church everyday when he would go for a walk. He always wondered what it was like inside. It’s beautiful stone architecture always pulled in his eyes as though it was forbidden to be seen. He rarely ever stopped here but today his legs were especially tired and he’s always liked the stone staircase. He looked up behind him and saw the door was open to the church. He missed being inside an old church like this as it had been 40 years since he stepped foot in one. He took a deep breath and stood up.

After a brief stretch of his old bones he walked up the stairs and peered in the door. The overwhelming smell of old wood and pew cushions wafted in his nose and brought with it a flood of memories. All of a sudden he felt like he was 12 years old again and dying to get out of church so he could go home and play football with his friends. But today he wanted to go inside, he didn’t want to leave. His memory, although negative in some ways, felt comforting.

Marshall took a few steps inside, hesitantly, uncertain of his welcome. No one seemed to be around so he walked into the sanctuary and sat down. It felt strange to him that he was now sitting in a church in the middle of his daily stroll. He almost got up to leave but decided to sit back and relax. There still wasn’t anybody around so he just let his mind wander. He took in the smells and spent more time taking in the stained glass windows. He never really looked at stained glass windows for they always seemed strange and other worldly. But today he was interested. The images were curious and the colors were bright. He wanted to touch them but they were high on the wall, lining the sanctuary.

Taking in his surroundings, Marshall closed his eyes to feel his presence more deeply. He had taken up yoga and meditation several years ago at the suggestion of a friend. He was never much of a spiritual person after surviving his Christian childhood. He was always a thinker but found religion and spirituality to be empty and arbitrary. But he’s enjoyed going to yoga and learning to quiet his mind and feel his body. He likes the practical and real application that yoga and meditation provide him.

As he sat there in that church and slowed his breathing, he felt very calm. Why was this church calming him so much? Why was he so interested in being here? Why was he more observant of the interior than ever before? Marshall didn’t have the answers to these questions. He reached his aging hands up to feel his beard as he often did. Questions. There were always so many questions.

(to be continued — possibly)