The wind blows through her long, wispy blonde hair as she travels down the cracked cement sidewalks. The sun is out, the sky is blue, the grass is green, and all is well. She walks past ranch style homes filled with families of four eating lunch all while ignoring each other at the table. Each of the four people has places they'd rather be and people they'd rather be with. The Mom would rather be taking an interim from parenting on the patio. The Dad would rather be watching a Packer's game in the garage with a Pabst beer in hand. Each of the children is wishing that they could be playing video games all alone in a dark room. Not her. That's not to say that she isn't in a similar situation--she is. Her toleration for her family is at its minimum. She just walked away, simple as that. She follows the sidewalk, under the beautiful sky and past the pear-shaped tree to go further down the hill of houses bought by people that regret every life decision that they've made because those choices led them to Grafton, WI, the only town thirty minutes north of Milwaukee with a Costco. Although the town isn't a town--it's not a large enough settlement to be defined as a town--Grafton is a mere village. It is a village that contains a few heroin labs, and many alcoholics, and the Milwaukee Ale House, and Collectivo, and a public swimming pool, and a wedding shop, and a Lutheran church, and a Catholic church, and a shop specifically dedicated to nursing scrubs, and a photography shop, and so much more. She continues to follow the sidewalk onto a bridge that goes over the Milwaukee River. She recalls all of the times her school bus passed this very bridge, and she remembers thinking that if she ever killed herself, it would be from a noose hanging off this very bridge. She never knew how shallow the water was, but she figured if the noose broke that the rocks under the water could finish the job. However, the sun is too bright, and the breeze is too perfect for such a thought to come to mind. She continues walking to complete her time on the bridge. She meets a crossroads. If she goes straight, she will hit a house full of people she knows nothing about that is opposite of her old friend's house. If she goes right and continues down that cracked sidewalk, then she will pass the elementary school named after John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the public library, and more houses full of people disappointed in their lives. If she goes left, she will be headed to her intended destination. She goes left.As she follows the cracked sidewalk on the left side of the road, she remembers every time she walked the very same sidewalk with her best friend. She remembers how naive she was in regards to their fragile friendship. Nothing lasts forever, they all say. She lets the old pain and joy mellow out for a few minutes. She continues down until she meets an entrance to the most wonderful park that has ever existed in Grafton, WI. She turns her body left and faces the beautiful sign that reads, Lime Kiln Park. She looks at the sign for no more than two minutes and walks straight into the park. Now Lime Kiln Park is no ordinary park, it is one made of sensations. Near the right side of the entrance is a playground, it very well may be a sad and pitiful playground, but the playground is not where children experience joy at Lime Kiln Park. Just behind the pitiful playground are three lime kilns from which the park receives its name. Between the playground and the kilns is a bridge that leads to the wooded part of the park. The wooded part of the park resembles the most enchanting forest. If one follows the path of the bridge, then they will find a splendidly dead tree that is perfect for climbing. If they decide to move past the tree, they will come to a separation in the trail. On the right side of the path is mud that leads to a rocky hillside perfect for climbing with the result of a bruised and bloodied leg. On the left side of the path is a stream that flows like an elegant dancer spinning across a stage. There is no bad course to take behind the bridge. The park continues through its many trails, thus making the fun at Lime Kiln Park never-ending.She walks into the park and follows the asphalt path on the left until she is direct across from the playground. Then, she turns left and starts walking through the grass to what looks like a bunch of trees. She squeezes between one large cement slab that is placed to look like a miniature wall and a bunch of small bushes surrounding a large tree. She breaks through and steps down onto another cement slab; however, this cement slab is flat and dips into the Milwaukee River. She bends over to sit down on the slab and lets out a deep sigh. The breeze flows perfectly across her face, emphasizing the perfect 72-degree day. The sun hits her and warms her head and the cement which is warming her legs. After about two minutes of peace, she takes her shoes and socks off, sets them to the side, and dips her feet in. The water is cool to the touch, sending shivers up her spine. She kicks the water for a while, watching it splash up into the air and feeling every cool drop of water against her legs. There is pure joy at this moment. She leans back and lies down on the concrete slab, still letting everything below her knees float in the water. She fills her lungs with cool summer air and then breaths out. She listens to the lullaby of the water flowing downstream and the birds chirping in the trees. It is a lullaby that sings of all the good in the world. It is a lullaby that could put the angriest, loudest, most obnoxious baby to sleep. The sad village of Grafton, WI, may be known for being home to those with unfulfilled potential, but very few know that Grafton is home to some of the most beautiful natural wonders. And she, Eleanor Plum, day in and day out, will always be there, on her cement slab with her feet in the river, listening to the songs of the water, of the birds, and the air.
