I don’t believe we ever walk in the same city twice. Though I only qualify through my poorly realized directional sense, I still feel in this very city I have lived in for almost 10 years of my life, I have never encountered the same wash of reminisce you get that very first time.
I simply fall in love each and every time.
The other night while simply strolling and partially wandering around, I think all dreamers tend to subconsciously look for that loophole coffee shop, in which after your very first and last departure, chances are you will never find it again. How coy. But maybe you are alright with that; it was simply meant to be. A ghost story you can tell to all your disbelieving friends, but you know that the atmosphere of it was very real indeed.
On these occasions, I tend to snap cheap shots with my one handy camera on hand – my phone. I never figure if those images are to convince you or myself. Of what you might ask? Perhaps the translucent imagery of the city – your’s and mine – the way the streets are entangled at this particular intersection and somehow you had never noticed its very quaintness until today; and the way a few curious steps too far can lead you much astray from the nice scenery you had only moments ago been enjoying. Welcome to the city, some say.
If it were up to me, I would say our city is much lacking of singular souls that should be as content as aimless in its strides. Local people who will step into the crisp fall evening to take a stroll for themselves. Then maybe a nod. Upgrade to a smile. After all, every friend you have today was once a stranger. So, let’s meet strangers.
Tonight, I thought of the way the fall wind really pinches your face and catches your breath. If I didn’t know any better, I might even venture to say it was the closest I’ve come to feeling model-esque. The stranger to whom my face was actually directed to though, is of course entitled to his own opinions.
I find that it seems the fall weather itself has a way to turn up the saturation level on all our rose-colored glasses. Everything is turning frighteningly real. The lightning silver clashing of the rustic colored leaves – silver blades in the sunlight, why can I see them all so clearly? Driving across town with my sister in the car, there is simply no heave of sigh large enough to encompass such relief at the natural beauty of our world. I, myself, wouldn’t bet twice against a sizable leaf blown by the wind to whip down and actually leaf-cut you in the face. It has happened.
Despite the capriciousness of this temperate season, the city has certainly not failed to deliver tonight.