Drenched

Picture a face.

It’s sporting a distant gaze, and is situated between two shutters.

You see it for only a moment as you pass by.

It was a dreary, rainy Tuesday. I stepped off the bus at the busy roadside Mars tér stop. There was drizzle, more or less rain. Bodies this way and that – mostly students, young folk standing here and there. Some were smoking, others drinking coffee from the vendors littering the roadside in front of the busy open-air depot. I started to walk. I passed the baked goods vendor and spied the sweet milk challah-like bread that I bought a few weeks ago.

No, not today, I thought.

Then I saw it, just for a moment. That sad face seated, probably on a stool, in a newsprint and magazine kiosk, like an oversized green phone booth. That face. Staring a who knows what, thinking who knows what, but there it was. It was so sad, and so perfect. It was one of those moments where if I had a proper camera and was unseen, I could imagine a black and white snap: framed between the shutters with the drizzle about and all those thoughts within.

Next time, perhaps.

The days are growing cold. There is a hum and a rhythm to daily life and work now. We’re settling. A bit of pay in the bank, and the chance to buy this and that, or the things we need. We still visit the piac here at Mars tér on Saturdays. We get up early, walk out the two kilometres to the market and shop. Apples, squash, preservative-free kraut, eggs, maybe some bread. The flavours, the food, the prices and, again, the faces are all different.

Better?

Different. All these flavours, views and features colour our days, and–we like it.

A week or more and we’ll have an autumn break from work. I love that word autumn. It almost sounds like the season. We’ll be off to see Pécs, a beautiful, historic city that boasts the Zsolnay district, a name famous for Hungarian porcelain, tiles and stoneware. We’ll be out at last to see some more of this beautiful country. And we look forward to it. For now, time for another bite of roasted sutőtök or roasted squash, a sip of some room-temperature red chai and a read of George Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss in Hungarian.

Autumn and all its favourites are here. Hope you have some time for a good book, a good bite and a cup of your favourite tea.

Egészségedre.