Father Irwing sat under the shade of a grand oak tree planted on his church's property, his head leaned against the bark and his eyes shut as he relaxed. It wasn't very often that he was able to relax this way, so the moment was greatly appreciated. For now, he'd ignore his responsibilities piling on as he sat there, feeling the wonderful summer breeze blow through his hair. Few people visited the church here either way. In the mean time, of course, he opened his eyes and silently people-watched. It was cathartic, in a way, being able to watch the people of his town scramble about on their own.