A friend of mine is currently writing her thesis for English Literature, and one of her topics is about traveling, memories and identity. Once you travel to a place, you somehow can never really enjoy the other places anymore, because you will always live on memories from other places. In other words, the more you travel, the more you seek. Your identity changes as you travel, and no matter how far we travel, the memories will follow you in the baggage car.
That thought struck me as I drove past this wall in the mountains.
I saw the red leaves, and suddenly I saw it from a Dutch perspective: Fall!
In Holland the leaves turn red in the fall. Here they do too, but only of certain plants (like the vines), and only in the mountains; not in Beirut. I miss the Dutch seasons, although I have to say that this fall has not disappointed me. Lots of wind, rain, storm, flying leaves and snappy cold air.
My daughter saw it from a Lebanese perspective: “Look, the leaves are the exact same color as the carpet,” she said.