On a sunny day, walking up through the city, to a viewing point, I notice gentle inscriptions into the stones beneath my feet.
The word ‘welcome’ is written in many different languages, and next to these I notice inscriptions of poems, which I assume have been written by people who live locally as part of a community project, but I’m not sure.
Standing there in the sunshine, with some height and distance from the city, the view reaching above high rises to the long majestic row of mountains in the distance, populated by snow, windmills and walkers I don’t doubt on a day like today, you get the pleasing, and for me necessary, sense of perspective that so much more lies beyond this network of towers and bridges and tenements. I am reminded of the importance of senses in understanding and feeling our way through, round, within the places we live. That familiar smell of marmite on toast sweeps in from the east as I look out, imagining walking up those majestic mountains that lie beyond the city.
“The soft breeze
The lovely flowers
The sound of buses
The lovely sun shining on me
A great view of the dear green place