It’s always good to go for walks at different times of day and experience new horizons, places and spaces. To enjoy looking at the buildings, the palm trees, the birds and everything else you come across along the way. But to do that, you always have to be very observant and focused on the details.
I often talk about the details of things, and the fact is that when you pay attention to them, for example, whilst out walking, everything else fades away. That’s why walks help bring peace of mind. Problems won’t go away, as I was saying the other day to someone I love dearly, but for a moment, the mind wanders and finds rest.
The mind, the head, needs to take a break from time to time from the sea of thoughts, so that we can return to them with a fresh perspective. It’s incredible how a walk can help shift your perspective, and even if that doesn’t happen, at the very least we get some fresh air and recharge our batteries to face whatever lies ahead.
One of the things I most enjoy doing when I go to the beach is sitting in the shade amongst a grove of palm trees and taking in my surroundings: the people near the shore, by the sea; the colours of the parasols; the children running and playing in the water; the boats on this beach, which decorate it perfectly when they’re not in use; and even the people strolling along the promenade beside the sand, under the trees.
Closer to me are the parakeets, which are usually found in the palm trees and make a distinctive sound, but then come down to feed in flocks and also gather twigs to take back to their nests. They mingle with the pigeons and sometimes there are even fights between them. When you pay attention to what is happening around you, your own thoughts fade into the background, even if only for a moment. It is during these intervals that the mind rests. If it does not rest, it becomes overwhelmed and may break down.
As I look around and take photographs, the sun begins to set, casting shadows which, on intensely hot days, make for a more pleasant walk. The last to bid it farewell are the tall palm trees and the sea, that sea I can hear in the distance and which I love.
I set off once more along the seafront promenade of a former fishing neighbourhood, now completely renovated, one of the loveliest spots for a peaceful stroll in a tranquil setting, whilst the sun continues to sink and dusk sets in.
Along the way, there are flowerbeds with more palm trees and other plants. I heard a flock of parakeets again and tried to get closer to them without disturbing them, until they noticed me and flew off.
The view of the beach is so beautiful at sunset; the colours in the sky shift from deep blue to shades of yellow, blending together. The greens of the grass seem to change colour, and the shadows of the palm tree trunks grow longer and longer.
Before saying goodbye to the beach, I look out at the horizon once more; I always do, as if to tell the sea to wait for me, that I’ll be back because it makes me happy.
I like to take different routes when I go for walks without thinking or without a destination in mind, but also when I know where I’m heading, admiring the buildings around me. Another thing I love is when there are lots of trees alongside them; the views are spectacular.
Lots of two-storey houses catch my eye as I walk.
And so do the children’s playgrounds with their play equipment and colours.
The atmosphere in this neighbourhood exudes peace and a leisurely pace of life. It’s very different from the city centre; it’s almost as if they were different cities altogether.
I arrive at what appears to be an educational establishment, and its façade and inner garden are incredible. Everything is covered in trees and greenery; it’s a very well-maintained building that stands imposingly within this beautiful neighbourhood. The sun has almost set, though there’s still some light and the scenery is changing.
It’s time to head back home, but not without taking one last look around.
Thank you very much for joining me on this Wednesday stroll; I send you my warmest regards. See you soon. Amonet.
All photographs are my own.
