Walking the Dog

September 10, 2015 § 2 Comments

When the days are long and busy I come back home unwilling to talk much. Sometimes after dinner, and before the days get too short and light escapes too soon, I make my rounds, a certain path, two-three blocks around my house. One of my cameras always accompanies me.

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I’m the dog I walk myself, taking the same paths again and again, taking a pic at the same places. That has a relaxing and reassuring effect on me. I’ve taken this rounds in other cities too. For all cities are related to each other and offer the basics I need: the bridges…

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… the construction sites,

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… the local shops,

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… the neighbourhood’s windows,

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… and if I’m lucky enough, one or two wedding dresses stores…

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Especially the latter have become a must to my meditation walks. And in my city I have the ones I go back to.

Oh, no, I’m not obsessed with marriage and it hasn’t been an unfulfilled wish to get married in a wedding dress, for I got married all the ways I wanted to. But I’m fascinated by these traditional, often kitsch, sometimes moving and….

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… sometimes terribly scary windows.

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And after I’ve marked all my corners, I finally return the dog home and wait for the night to fall.

(All photos from my evening walk earlier tonight.)

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§ 2 Responses to Walking the Dog

  • edgarhopper says:

    I really enjoy reading you. You manage to elicit so many of the memories that occupy my 86 year old brain. It’s curious because I’ve lived in a markedly different culture here in New York. So much for all those degrees of separation. Thank you.

    Like

    • Magda Kapa says:

      I guess, deep inside we are all sentiment and thus independent from age, place and culture. If someone’s words find their way down to this fundamental part of the other, then memories, even if of different places and time, can awake similar feelings; the streets of a New York neighbourhood become my streets and the streets of a German town or a Greek village become then yours. We essentially only remember what we felt in life and everything we see, read or hear can enable us, or stop us, from doing so. It is the true freedom this mind of ours.
      Thank you so much for commenting on my blog. Your presence here honours me.

      Like

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