Having been to this country so many times, its nice to feel a sense of place. No need to worry over discovering, touristing, getting lost.
A to B, a little bit of C and the occasional Z, but in all a familiarity.
Where I cam from had its grime and dirt, but surface at times. Here' history makes it embedded like age old fingernails. Like a grandma's hands, worn to the quick, wrinkled with folds. History in its skin.
Something to discover. Something to nurture.
Nurture. Something which I was reminded was lacking in this place. However, I was reminded that the nature I was seeking was actually with the community that already exists here for me. Friends from long times. The number 8 to Bow. Simply Fresh.
Isn't it. Old news, but simply fresh. Again.
Paris next. Time to find another creative sentiment in my brain. A sentiment in a new place.