Having been cooped up indoors for far too long, a simple walk becomes a sensory explosion— the heavy, dull smell of burning coal, the soft scent of snow in the clouds, the brine of the sea... My childhood comes flooding back into the forefront of my brain as these scents and that green, green of the Bosphorus melt into a blur of synaesthesia.
Life has carried on in my absence— always a bit shocking but never disappointing; the yellow house is now tragically white, and the blue barrels are now on the right-hand side of the road. Boats with different names bob silently in the green waves. I feel like I've been reunited with a long-lost love— forgotten contours and fuzzy details now clear.
As I feel the comfort of cold cobblestone beneath my thin sole, I can't help but spread a wide grin across my winter-stung face.
It feels so good.