Learning the market by its colours

There is a particular kind of quiet that only happens in places you don't know yet. You notice it first as an absence — no routine, no familiar street — and then as a presence, something open that asks you to look properly.

I have been thinking about that feeling for weeks now, trying to decide whether it comes from the place itself or from the way travelling makes me pay attention.

What follows is less an argument than a set of notes, written down over a few slow days of walking, eating and talking to people.

The best moments did not insist. They simply happened, and I was lucky enough to be there when they did.

Maybe that is the whole point: not to go looking for meaning, but to leave enough room for it to find you.

❦