alankaar
Seller and buyer, Siem Reap
I’ve walked at night in a city that was far from here and not my own. I’ve been tired, very tired. I’ve spent miles watching shadows lengthen at my feet, thinking I might never find my way back again.
And yet, in that peculiar fog of broken time and fatigue, the senses start to trip and tumble over each other, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Every city has a voice, something that thrums so deep or so high that your ears can’t perceive it without help from the rest of you. When it starts to speak, you have to let go of what came before; you have to just be.
I’ve learned to let myself fall in headlong, and savor every bit — the movement in every direction, vibrant chatter I don’t yet understand, the whir of passing motors. The smell of food, the sighing rain. Color that intensifies in the damp. Singing, and then laughter. A dog barking in the distance.
When I’ve finally let go of counting shadows, I’ve looked up and found light — oh, the warm, wonderful light! — and it reminded me that in all the ways that matter most, I was already home.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Jenn Wilson and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
