Happiness is bare ankles and blank pages
So I escaped to the outdoors, where I became lost in a crowd of sun seekers. All of us congregating in the gardens of Münster Church, to worship the warmth of the sun.
As the somber bells of Münster rang their twelve long notes, gangs of teenagers flooded through the garden gates and brought with them shouting and laughter.
Businessmen in suits fanned themselves over the lawns, lay on the grass, and closed their eyes--for one hour forgetting about the office, and deadlines, and bottom lines.
Ladies who lunch shared park benches, salads, and engaging conversation. Cell-phones were checked, then turned off, as nothing was more important than their one hour tête -à - tête in the sun.
A group of Russian tourists shuffled through the garden with cameras around their necks, following their tour guide as she bobbed along holding up a little Russian flag. A history lesson was given, pictures were snapped, questions were asked, and quickly they shuffled out of the garden and on to the next stop of the tour.
Small children ran and jumped on the few pieces of playground equipment, while their mothers sat under the shade of the trees and absent-mindedly pushed the infant siblings in oversized carriages back-and-forth, back-and-forth, while they gossiped and occasionally shouted caution to the rambunctious first-borns.
And me? I sat on my bench, with my frosty bottle of water, and made notes in my journal about all the things I want to learn, and taste, and hear, and smell, and buy. And all the places I want to go, see, walk-through, and visit.
Then I put the pen down, looked around, and realized right here is the best place to be right now.