In Emory Village there sits a small area in the middle of the road with a few benches, a fountain, and plants.
Everything about this place is hot. The air is hot, the bench is hot: the heat here is unavoidable. The cooling wind that blows every so often is the only thing that makes the heat this afternoon bearable.

The benches are metal and black; sitting on them burns a person’s backside at first touch.
In the background sits Emory University’s campus, a few restaurants, stores, and a variety of cars driving steadily on the street and around the traffic circle. The people driving in the cars are mysteries, and from this special spot, no one knows their destinations.
It is mid-afternoon and many people are walking: some on the phone, a few in groups, and some are carrying bags from their latest shop at CVS. It is a Sunday and people walk with leisure. They do not seem to be in a rush to get anywhere. The people are extremely diverse in this area and on this one particular afternoon one can overhear people speaking up to three different languages. One woman clunks her way down the stairs while talking on the phone. She is dressed in a skirt and nice blazer; her manner and attire seem out of place. Two men pass wearing pants, which also seems unfitting for Atlanta’s extremely hot weather. Many of the younger people that pass have backpacks on and are headed back towards the campus entrance. Some people walk, but there are others who ride their bicycles. Two people ride by that appear to be a couple in their matching helmets. No one chooses to stop and take in the park's beauty; it is only used as a thoroughfare.

There is a fountain on one of the sides of this enclosed area. Inside of it sits three TALL white poles that are stretched out and bent into different directions.
The water rushing can command anyone's complete attention. The sound is consistent, relaxing, and peaceful while sitting on the bench in the shade.
Every so often there is an influx of cars driving around the traffic circle. The loudest of the vehicles is one of Emory’s many Cliff shuttles trekking up the hill. Suddenly, there are sirens and an ambulance is making its way up the street. All of the other cars pull over to let it go past them. People on the street turn their heads with curiosity at the loud noise. Just as the talkative woman on the phone could catch people’s attention, this car and moment feels out of place in the park. The change in mood is startling to everyone in the village. 
In another area of the garden two benches face a dirty, muddy pond. Compared to the fountain rushing across the patio, this little muggy-looking pond appears to serve no purpose against the beauty of the rest of the area. The pond is in an odd shape and gray stones outline it. The few bushes that are in the back of the water are dead.

In the other corners, beautiful purple and orange flowers are in bloom on bushes and it gives the area a flash of color. It compliments the uncracked and uncrumbled red-bricked floor of the patio.
After a while, it becomes easier to adjust to the heat of the black bench underneath one’s self. When the seat is comfortable and the wind is blowing, this little alcove can be quite busy for those running errands, but relaxing if someone chooses to sit down and take in the area's beauty.



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