Endlessly grey days, damp, and cold.
Birds of Amstel
The river has a large heart, she just gives and gives. Her path determined, she runs her course, yet yields. Alongside her banks: bounties – trees, grass, shrubs, dragonflies. I watch rowboats, cycles, runners, skaters, an unruly kid way ahead of her guardian on a space scooter, her mischievous gurgling laughter infecting the air. I…
Lisbon day 5: Let’s Go to Alfama
Apoorva said the streets of Alfama reminded him of Ajmer back in the day. I could see this, the curling narrow roads akin to gullies, windows that face each other making room for glances or chats, blinking cats that seemed to be in a languid trance, and Tram 28 meandering through like a boa who…