the ground beneath them

~ while unravelling ~
this week has been about my feet.
... who they like to hang out with ...

... what keeps them going ...

... what makes them stop ...

... where they relax ...

... what they wear ...

and where they go.

To the left there is silence, to the right big city noise. Walking left, I’ll walk towards a gigantic tree and when I’m passed it, I’ll cross a boulevard, a street and then I’m stopped by the train tracks. Walking right, there’s a piazza, a park and all the shops, restaurants and cafés I will ever need. Well, except for a book store. I have to walk far to look for books.

All the houses here were built just before the 19th century ended and they are filled with stucco, cracks, wooden floors, families of two or three, and ornamental doors. On weekends, the music is insanely loud, bikes are stolen, lovers quarrel at the top of their lungs under the street lights, walls are tagged, and football fans sound like they are imitating landing jumbo jets. Monday to Friday everything is quiet. Still. Almost peaceful.

When people wear raincoats, massive boots and rough, woolly scarves & mittens, it's winter. When there is colour, naked skin and glittery high heels everywhere it is usually summer.

Nine out of ten times, I will walk right. Walk or bike towards people, shops, work, training, the park, a concert, the library, dog sitting, a flea market, my favourite café, a photo safari. Or, if I have borrowed a car, drive to the forest, to my parents, all the way to the Little House in the Big Woods. I will wear high heels, hiking boots, flip flops, suede wedges, canvas sandals, wellingtons, old fashioned black leather shoes or green boots made out of horse skin.

When I walk to the left, it is to get to nowhere land. The big area between the train tracks and the harbour. Not a lot of people live there and those that do, live either in tiny yellow brick houses or on house boats. I go for the graffiti. The trains. The forgotten spaces between factories. Silence.

My street. The one I walk every day. This is home, the place I love, the area I belong to. For now.