This morning, my coworker headed to the airport. Obligations at home meant she had to head back. I'm now sitting in the living room of our flat with the balcony door cracked open, listening to the big trucks occasionally roll by. The seagulls are also crying out overhead and the sound of a drum being periodically beaten by two hands nearby is like a song of peace. A helicopter patrolled a little bit ago but all still seems well. Cars pass, a machine sounds, people talk on the street below, the apartment windows across from me are still. There's blue sky breaking through the cloud cover and the light beyond the balcony is glowing and soft. It's nice.
I couldn't control whether the riots happened and I'm sad that they happened at all, but I appreciate the stronger awareness of calm I have here now. And the appreciation for the sense of relief in the people on the street at night.
I'm headed to the Bullring Market soon--an indoor/outdoor visual smorgasbord of everything from vegetables to underwear. And the trash bins are so cool I wanna take one home as a souvenir!
