Walking around

 I love these dreams of traveling. the feeling of discovery. The dreams where you walk around new places with the feeling of having been there before. Those ones where you can feel the hot air, the smell of the sea, the humidity, the sounds are clear even those ones that come from far away.

  I was walking on the stone made streets of a small fisherman's village. Like those Spanish colonial towns you can find on the coasts of Latin America. Sometimes like the streets of Palma de Mallorca, that Mediterranean style.

 Up and down the hill. In the middle of what it seemed to be a town party. I looked to my watch and it was almost eleven pm but there was still many children playing on the streets. Under the dimmed lights of lines of colored bulbs. Some times just the lights of torches or sometimes a fireplace in the middle of the square.
 Every time I turned around the corner there was a different event going on, different music, different people but always the same vibration. The sound of children playing and laughing, the guitars, the drums.The smell of delicious fresh food you could find on stands all over the place mixed with the salty smell carried by the sea breeze.

All the streets decorated on white silk stripes hanging from balcony to balcony across the small streets and the massive pots on the corners filled with green plants and flowers of all the colors the nature could show but weren't very bright under the poor lights hanging on top of the streets. It all reminded me of those times when there was no electricity. The ladies on beautiful summer dresses and men on white trousers, sometimes white shirts, some times very colorful shirts. Children barefoot. running or cycling around.

All the dark skinned people dancing and beautifully smiling at me as I walked past reminding me that I was just a spectator. A piece that doesn't belong to the picture of that puzzle. But still making me feel the peace inside me. Making me want to join the party. making me want to stop and dance, and play. But instead I just walked pass across the village all the way down to a dark wooden quay where I stood for a bit looking from the distance at that beautiful hill that they covered in happiness. I could still hear the music and smell the fires and the food.
 I turned around and faced the cold and dark infinity of the ocean. Listening to the waves roaring under the reflections of the now very low lights of the town. The wind started howling words I couldn't understand.

 And sea drops flying made my face wet and i could feel the cold.

 I opened my eyes and an open window showed me the way back to the grey city on a rainy day. I was back. Miles away from that beautiful place. But with a heart full of joy.