Ottawa

The morning air feels pristine, garnished with the aroma of fresh pastries and freshly brewed coffee, sublime european flavour. The chill factor is incredible, purges the senses and leaves him with a clear head to think. Walking down the clean streets, snug beneath the layers of sweaters and scarves, a mumbled "bonjour" escapes his lips in greeting as he crosses path with the early morning crawlers...

The national museum is beautiful...there are no other words to describe it. Standing beneath the huge paintings, u can gradually feel the hands of time grind to a halt, and slowly u r catapulted back in to the past, till u can taste the texture of the canvas in ur senses...with my eyes closed, I could picture my scarves and sweaters slowly turning into robes...soft words whispering in the air in different languages...

Climbed to the peak of the hill...glanced down @ the city sprawled beneath me...crazy view! With my arms spread aloft, itz easy to feel weightless...the tune in my head is from "Lark Ascending"...enchanting, like a ballerina floating up to the peak of Rio...C'est la vie! The wind drags u back to reality...mercilessly, it vacuums the illusions from my head...till I am left with a gaping hole again...Ottawa