Sunday, July 20, 2008

Rio Duoro, Porto (Portugal)- Last stop

To watch a city get dark while sipping on sweet wine, to watch the swarms of seagulls grow and drape the simmering sky and the sky breaking cathederal tower in the distance. The pastel rooftops, bleached my the ages of the sun, break the silence of the sky as the river running beneath echoes the violin and accordian blowing the symphany of old dirt stained fingers. I dont know this city but I feel at home amoungst the twinkle of the water and the twighlight of the sky.
The glimmering lights of the night remind the day that it is time to set, as me and my friends watch the shift change, spectators of a tradition as old and as inevitable to the universe as breathing is to us. just as the day can only last for so long, so can this moment. Thats what makes this voyage so incredible and so painful. As amazing as it was to be here, you must maintain this philosophy in your mind. Hard not to get attached. Heavier and heavier is the sand in my sand watch, pooring faster and faster as the sun sets inch by inch. With every next beat of my heart and every desperate breath that I take, I know that this does not last.
This city will remember my face, as the faces of all the locals, the travelers, the seagulls, the builders, the wreckers, the layers, the finders, and that is all that will be left of me here... a footprint.

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