Paris, 4/11/2016, 11:09 hrs. Rain, 7 degrees Celsius, Northerly wind
(13 miles per hours)

Green is the colour of hope, they say. I am standing on the
bridge Pont de Javel. It’s cold, rainy. The Eiffel Tower seems
small, delicate in the distance… the only constant in the city
that keeps changing… I am alone on the bridge. A cargo ship
passes under it; frothy waves follow the back of the ship.
Nothing in this scene feels romantic… machinery and dust.
I am looking down at the water streaming under the bridge.
Deep sounds of dead trees reverberate at its bottom. Since
I have been watching the river, living by it every day, I have
learned to see better, to listen, to wait, to observe… I have
been searching for my answers in the swirling motion of flows.
Hoping I would find them… But, I haven’t yet… So, I keep
searching. Dreaming of green rivers, lakes, seas… sirens.
Embracing the sun and the moon, water and fire. Becoming
the North and the South.

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