Double Yolk

I’m sitting here in Lisbon. Outside, on a step, and I’m watching. I’m watching these people walking past me—how they dress, how they walk, their expressions, their voices. And then I watch what’s around them. How low the sun is here. The way it almost seems to meet the horizon of the trees. And I watch the cobble stones. Especially that one loose rock right near the edge of the walkway.

I sit here like this for awhile. Watching. Soon I will go get something to eat and maybe take a walk or do some shopping. But for now I just sit here. 

People always say that thing, wherever you go, there you are. It sounds simple. 

“Of course you’re wherever you are” 

But what I think it means is that wherever I am, wherever in the world, I am only there.

It is here on this step that I am hearing the childlike laughter from that older woman walking past. It is here that I am watching that strange bird dance past my feet. 

It is here that I am in the world, not just beside it looking in. And here is a really lovely place to be.