Shelter

In a shady cove in the woods in Brandywine Park, almost invisible from the main trail, a sturdy stone and beam shelter stands lonely. Those who happen upon it these days are up to no good -- as attested by the graffiti on the walls and smells and detritus around the back. But if those stone could speak, they would tell stories of families gathering to commemorate a marriage (low-budget) or graduation, badminton and punch, neighbors being community. It used to be fully equipped for a day in the park. These days it stand empty from dusk till dawn when the park is closed, while homeless men sleep under the freeway bridge a few steps away.
High in the Himalayas, in shady spots along the way, public shelters are common, mapped out about a day's trek apart, waiting for the next night's trekkers: tourists, mountaineers, merchants, refugees, goat herders. They provide a fire pit for cooking rice and dahl, maybe a nettle stew. Signs of previous occupants remain day after day, connecting users with others. It's safe shelter for the night.
In the modern day, editorials decry the lack of care for the religious pilgrimage sites (Hindustani Times, June 2013), and far too much graffiti mars these Indian national treasures. Now visitors drive their SUV's up mountainsides and don't take the time to stay overnight.
One day, maybe you can visit one of these shelters, either in the Brandywine, or in the Himalayas, or in your local park, and stay a minute to read the stories written there.