Yesterday, I was walking around town with D and Chotto-ma, down the same streets that I walk every day. But everything looked different. It was winter's early dusk, and the light was tinged with blue. It was enchanting. Now, enchanting is not a word that sits comfortably with me. Like red nail polish. But it's the only word that comes to mind.
The light poured itself on rooftops, trickled down, past the sashed windows, down to the pavements and onto the streets. It splashed about people's feet, and soaked their skirts and skin. It slid down the canopies of the market stalls, and dripped down on blond heads and black. It covered the city with a sheer, blue-tinged stain.
There was this deep sense of melancholia, interspersed with merry christmas lights. There's nothing more beautiful than a good contradiction.
It's the kind of light that makes lovers break up, and strangers fall in love. It's the kind of light that makes you rethink. Or lull you into thinking it's alright. It makes you smile without reason. Drink a glass of wine by the roadside. Buy flowers. Cry. Hold hands. Slow down. Dance. Write.
As we walked, this odd, beautiful light slowly changed. From blue to butter, and then to black.
I didn't have my camera. But I really wanted to share this with you, so I used the camera in my phone. It's not the best, but it's what I've got of the day. The photographs are in the order of our walk, so you can take the same walk we did.