Climbing down five flights of stairs down to the courtyard, every floor has its own unique scent. The distinct aromas of middle eastern, Balkan, and German cuisine, among others, mingle. Once outside there's a sort of hazy barbecue smell and the sky is grey like smoke. It's warm and damp and very still. It makes me nostalgic for Missouri summers. But I'm in Germany and soon enough I'll be in Missouri feeling nostalgic about Bonn.
The sky is a little orange. When I told the Askatasuna kids that a green sky meant a coming tornado back home, they exchanged a look and a comment in Basque that I just understood - that in the Pyrenees the sky turns orange just before it snows. Back inside after a slow bike-ride to Lidl that seemed to go outside of time, the leaves are rustling and the spiderweb woven into my window-frame is lighting up at far-off lightning.
It suddenly starts to rain. Gently. Such a subtle phenomenon - invisible, for example, on film - that you wonder how it is exactly that you see it. There is thunder. The air is fresh. The spiderweb starts to unravel in the wind. I'll close the window soon. Not yet.
Here is the place where I am to ramble about life and love and languages. You'll probably encounter some quasi-anthropological ranting and a lot of wanderlust. I do try not to be too emo, and occasionally throw in things of worldly interest, so stop by and read if you have a few minutes. :)
Whom to Know
- Elindomiel
- I'm a university student who likes languages, literature, and having friends from all over the world.
1 comment:
I love you, baby!! You are such an excellent writer!! I sent you an email with some exciting news!
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