There’s this little ORANGE town in the middle of no-where*. It would take only 1.5 hours to walk from one end of it to the other. So, why does a car take so long to get around?
The streets are straight and wide, lined with mighty 3-decade-old plane trees, graciously sharing their BLUE shade with everything beneath: with sleepily strolling visitors, chatting mothers pushing strollers and the busy working lot. The busiest, however, are always the YELLOW buses, the bottomless vessels transporting the townsfolk to the City and back.
Oh, wait, that was until the new mayor took office and was convinced by the sponsors of his campaign to prune the giants. And now they look very much like this:
It feels like the whole town is guarded by some vicious headless monsters (which might be exactly the case in all reality, though), watching your every laugh and making you mind the color of your RED shoes.
The town has a secret. If you step off the buss in the very center, in the downtown, take several deep breaths, tune in to the surrounding rhythm and trust your intuition, your feet will soon get you to a park. Crunchy grass, juicy leaves, winding paths, sculptures and artistically scattered pink rocks, a solar clock, inviting and surprisingly comfortable benches, playgrounds, cats and birds eager for your attention. Paradise, isn’t it? But you feel there is something more to it, the picture is not complete, something is yet to be discovered. And you keep walking as the urge grows. You see the pine trees, VIOLET from the distance and the sky. And as you walk, you begin to realize that it is not sky you are seeing. It is the INDIGO sea. And you float above it, on a transparent mix of clouds and musky scents of nature. You gulp for air, overwhelmed by the sensation of flying above the waves. And then you look down. And find your feet firmly on the ground. And a cliff. Just a few steps ahead.
*By “No-Where” I mean that well-known geographically correct land mark – Google it, if you do not trust a Blogger.