5 May | Written by Hailey Ng

17 April 2022 — It was one of those gentle Sunday afternoons where the world seemed to slow down just enough for me to catch up. The weather was perfect — clear blue skies dotted with fluffy clouds — I knew I had to bring myself to one of my favourite places in York, the York Museum Garden.

I laid out a small feast — scones, a slice of cheesecake, and a chocolate-filled doughnut — got myself all comfortable on the grass, and indulged in my favourite pastime: people watching.

The garden was lively, filled with the usual weekend crowd: families picnicking, couples strolling, joggers jogging. Yet, that day was far from ordinary. A wedding was happening nearby in the church, filling the air with distant laughter and romantic music that made the atmosphere feel almost magical. Amidst this backdrop, my attention was drawn to an elderly couple. They stood slightly away from the celebration, watching the newlyweds with a kind of quiet intensity that drew me in.

I couldn’t help but wonder about their story. What were they thinking as they watched the young couple? Did they see reflections of their youth in those young faces? Were they reminiscing about their own wedding day or perhaps contemplating the lives of their children? I wondered if they had watched their own children walk down the aisle or if life had taken a different turn for their family.

You see, what makes people watching so intriguing is not just seeing but also trying to understand what lies beneath the surface. Each scenario seemed as plausible as the next, painting a series of portraits of a life that might have been. Maybe they weren’t thinking about any of these things at all. Perhaps they were just enjoying the moment; the beauty of a celebration of love.

We may never know if our imagined stories are close to the truth, but that’s hardly the point. The beauty of people watching lies in the narratives we construct and the empathy they evoke. The point is to engage with the world, to consider lives other than our own, and to recognise the shared threads of humanity that connect us all.

As I continued to watch, my gaze shifted to a more playful scene: two little boys racing each other across the grass.

The boy in the grey shirt, smaller and perhaps a bit younger than his friend, kept losing race after race. His frustration grew with each defeat. Yet, he kept challenging his friend to another race. And then, finally, he won. His face lit up with the proudest grin, and something about that moment caught my heart.

It was such a simple thing — a child winning a race — but it felt significant. Watching him, I realised how much his persistence mirrored the challenges we face in life. Each setback he faced didn’t deter him; instead, it seemed to fuel his resolve to succeed. This little boy, absorbed in his own challenge, unknowingly inspired me, reminding me that challenges are a universal part of life, but giving up doesn’t have to be.

As I left the park that day, I carried with me an inexplicable sense of connection to these strangers. Both scenes were simple, everyday moments, yet they were laden with the weight of unspoken stories and life lessons. Through the simple act of people watching, I realised how deeply interconnected we all are in our shared human experiences.

We love, we struggle, we celebrate, we push through — and in these moments, watching the simple, unguarded expressions of life around me, I felt less alone. In those quiet moments of reflection, it became clear: none of us are truly navigating this world on our own. Our lives touch, overlap, and support each other in subtle but profound ways, and in this shared journey, we are never truly alone.