Sorry. I've not been posting as much as I've been writing. Here's one from my trip to the US, almost two months ago:
The 6 am weather is biting, as I find myself temporarily away from my parents. European punctuality is a refreshing, if not unforgiving, when it comes to their public transport service.
As I disembarked into the mildly uncomfortable spring breeze, I noticed a Dutch couple standing across the bus stop. They're both arched towards one another. The lady has a foot planted onto the platform, the only thing posing as an obstacle between them. It seemed that nothing else mattered to them. Certainly not the cold.
You could see the glimmer in their eyes. Their gazes locked, unmoved. I noticed the wrinkle on their eyes and cheeks. They must be in their 50s, at a minimum. The grey roots on their dirty blonde hair vindicates that guess.
They've now pulled closer, and spoke further. As curiosity and fascination took over, I was drawn to their conversation. Of course, I'm a terrible lip-reader, especially since it's most definitely in spoken Dutch. Stubbornly, I pressed on.
Once the last words were muttered, the man places his hands on her face, cupping her cheeks. She quickly lays her hands onto his.
They slowly closed the gap separating their love, and exchanged an intimate kiss.
It was only then that I felt like I needed to move on. They were so open and expressive of their love for one another, that I felt somewhat moved by this observation.
It didn't feel like I was overstepping in their relationship, which is oddly intrusive of me.
And in an odd roundabout way, I was invited in. It was merely a glimpse, and that's all I could have asked for.
That casual observation had inspired me to love things more. This elderly couple, in a distant foreign land, had taught me how to be a better person. All this, without the use of a single word.
All this, so that I can love you better.
The 6 am weather is biting, as I find myself temporarily away from my parents. European punctuality is a refreshing, if not unforgiving, when it comes to their public transport service.
As I disembarked into the mildly uncomfortable spring breeze, I noticed a Dutch couple standing across the bus stop. They're both arched towards one another. The lady has a foot planted onto the platform, the only thing posing as an obstacle between them. It seemed that nothing else mattered to them. Certainly not the cold.
You could see the glimmer in their eyes. Their gazes locked, unmoved. I noticed the wrinkle on their eyes and cheeks. They must be in their 50s, at a minimum. The grey roots on their dirty blonde hair vindicates that guess.
They've now pulled closer, and spoke further. As curiosity and fascination took over, I was drawn to their conversation. Of course, I'm a terrible lip-reader, especially since it's most definitely in spoken Dutch. Stubbornly, I pressed on.
Once the last words were muttered, the man places his hands on her face, cupping her cheeks. She quickly lays her hands onto his.
They slowly closed the gap separating their love, and exchanged an intimate kiss.
It was only then that I felt like I needed to move on. They were so open and expressive of their love for one another, that I felt somewhat moved by this observation.
It didn't feel like I was overstepping in their relationship, which is oddly intrusive of me.
And in an odd roundabout way, I was invited in. It was merely a glimpse, and that's all I could have asked for.
That casual observation had inspired me to love things more. This elderly couple, in a distant foreign land, had taught me how to be a better person. All this, without the use of a single word.
All this, so that I can love you better.
posted from Bloggeroid
