Saturdays, I have decided, are for lazy walks around the city.
They are for dilly-dallying, for wandering down all the roads with strange, wonderful names that I usually bypass during the week. They are for leaving the house, then returning, not knowing what will happen in between, where exactly the city will take me, or which train of thought I will board that day. It seems all I have on those days is a train ticket to anywhere and a pleasant, thrumming wanderlust.
Saturdays are for denim jackets that flap in the wind, for loose, wild hair that flies freely without care and for sneakers ready to follow the trail of urban adventures. Saturdays are for walking through the older parts of this ancient city, in those places where the trees grow so tall they become mountains that dwarf the sky into looking like flecks of blue idly passing by. They are for bathing in the honeyed light of the sun, for stopping at bridges just to watch the water flow by in rivulets.
Saturdays are for walks in forgotten gardens, those ones that are protected by trees bending over them, standing as boundaries between the city and its gardens, accidentally creating havens and whole other worlds in the process.
Saturdays—this Saturday was for eating melting ice-cream while sat upon graffiti’d walls, looking over the city and its people while humming some happy song. Or trying to decipher the meaning of the message written in the skies. Today was for wearing a scent and letting it drift to the wind, to the city’s rooftops and to the harbour, even to the foot of the mountains.
Yeah, this Saturday was for taking blurry pictures of the sky, not to share or post on Instagram, but just to remember. To remember that this Saturday happened. That life can be good and beautiful without being complicated. That it’s always the simple things. In that case, maybe Saturdays aren’t for all those things after all. Maybe they’re just a day to breathe, to be.
Young Adult, Old Soul 
So lovely ❤️ Especially the forgotten gardens protected by the trees bending over them. 😍I can’t help wondering if this is a real place? Oh how I’d love to be transported there now!
LikeLike
Thank you, Bron ❤ It's so nice to hear from you, it's been a while 🙂 It is a real place! The trees are so huge they form a curtain almost between the city and these gardens 🙂 Because they're so huge too, everything else feels so small, and it's a nice change of perspective, it makes a lot of usually too-important things seem insignificant 🙂 And you don't see much of the sky, either, but in that case, it's an oddly marvelous thing.
Most places I write about are inspired by real-life ones, although I feel my imagination gets carried away, or that I'm satisfied or awed by very little lol, so it may be that, too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ahh you really make me want to visit, especially to see those tees! Well if you don’t mind you can tell me in email where it is 😊
LikeLike
Gladly 🙂
LikeLike
Such a beautifully unhurried wandering. Writing is an expression of how one understands and lives life. And you do it very well
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so very much for your kind words, Ananda. I’m happy to see you enjoy these little bits and pieces. Looking forward to reading more of your writing ☺️
LikeLike