I used to spend my time in the city in nooks and neighborhoods that had as much to offer that moods, eclecticism and uniqueness could as I went though what I wanted, was expected, needed to do. Some places I would go to for a purpose:
The store for milk,
The cemetary for a burial,
The beach for a sunset view.
Others places portented only what I went by, never thinking nor caring what may have lay within. These locales appeared and faded periferally in droves...shadow snapshots in the grey backdrop of the journey that happens getting from somewhere to somewhere else.
In the landscape of everywhere one has ever been, there are though, a few places you come across again, and again, and again. They ensnare you, they orbit you in as they fix into the centres of your repeated life and become beacons of your movements. From a favorite bar, to the place you watched the ocean with her once, to a neighborhood you lived in where so much happened...where so much came, was lost, and has been remembered you find yourself coming back for its familiar, perhaps secreted reason and with no need to remember the way at all, second nature being what it is.
In the landscape of everywhere one has ever been, there are though, a few places you come across again, and again, and again. They ensnare you, they orbit you in as they fix into the centres of your repeated life and become beacons of your movements. From a favorite bar, to the place you watched the ocean with her once, to a neighborhood you lived in where so much happened...where so much came, was lost, and has been remembered you find yourself coming back for its familiar, perhaps secreted reason and with no need to remember the way at all, second nature being what it is.
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