Observation and meditation

He had been plugged in since nine-thirty that morning, making use of the five-hour battery life of his iPod. He still had about an hour-and-a-half left until the continual music pouring into his ears would fade away and become silence. Whenever Logan could, he had his headphones streaming music through them, comfortably placed on his head. Music, as he had described it dozens of times to anyone who would listen, was the poetry of the soul.

Logan had been sitting on a brick wall at the edge of the city park since The Grateful Dead cover band started their jam session that morning. They had already played through The Dead's greatest hits, their normal set up they did each week. It became a habit of Logan's to sit and listen to the first part of their session when he first started venturing to the park a few months ago. Then, after a while, he would relocate to the farther end of the park, where a nice, red brick wall was constructed, bordering the property.

Lots of people occupied the brick wall during the day, transitioning between point A and point B, hungry workers on their lunch break, or relax-seeking individuals looking to find some kind of haven at a shady park. For Logan, he just liked to people watch. It intrigued him, from a young age, to sit on the sidelines and just observe the environment around him. He kept his music playing the whole time, as well, when on the off-chance that it would happen, the song playing would match up with the people and things he would see. Sometimes it would turn out like a game, trying to fit the song with the characters walking by, wondering what each person was thinking or where they were headed. It was the mystery of the human species that kept Logan returning to his wall.