Walking along the narrow cobblestone street I paused before an old wooden brown door decorated with cast iron adornments. Unperturbed, I pushed the door, which groaned heavily and proceeded up the dimly lit passageway. The sound of people walking in the street dwindled as I wound my way up a narrow ancient corridor, until arriving at an archaic stairwell. I looked up in wonder at the winding staircase; the yellow glow along the walls was penetrated by the gentle blue of the sky breaking through in the distant heights. The walls had faded; a multitude of cracks permeated their surface forming an archaic tapestry. Every line seemed to manifest a mysterious tale, centuries old. The simplistic beauty of this rennaisance stairwell kept me transfixed for a long time, yearning for a distant era, alive within the depths of my imagination.
The clicking sound of footsteps echoed distinctly within the almost deserted arcade. A long glass ceiling contrasted against the chequered floor. The blend of classical architecture in perfect symmetry was beautiful to behold. . Slowly, the smell of freshly roasted coffee, permeated by the conversation of people enjoying the simplicities of life pierced my reverie. Slowly, I became aware of the various cafes, restaurants and artisan shops manifesting the vibrancy European culture that stretched out before me.
Passing through the heart of a city, I was suddenly inundated with a mélange of buildings, advertisements, clamour of traffic, smell of food stalls and rush of people from all walks of life, unfolding before my very eyes. The various expressions on people’s’ faces, especially those sprawled on the pavement evoked a pang of compassion making me reflect “I’d love to know that person’s life story”. Looking around while dodging the constant stream of people, I was captivated by the classical architecture that seemed to silently stand out, marked by stark simplicity and elegant beauty. Walking in the midst of the city I came across an arcade, formed by an honour guard of Classical Grecian columns adorned with a domed roof of the Renaissance period. In the distance a waiter was preparing tables for the forthcoming day. I could envisage people sitting in the cafe, chatting over coffee and hugging their cup for warmth on this cold winter day.
Passing through the crowd of people, I calmly walked between the noisy throng, gravitating towards an open space permeated by light. Suddenly, I saw a tower reaching skywards towards a magnificent dome surrounded within an embrace of steel and glass. The sight was both spectacular and strange. The colossus, so tall and strong, seemed striking yet misplaced. I found myself standing in awe. The vibrancy and complexity of civilisation manifested within the architectural themes of cities never ceased to amaze me. It seems that cities continually redefine themselves in their own unique way. The sculptors that provide the energy behind this change are the various people throughout history leaving their influences as determined by the cultural forces at play.
My footsteps echoed ever so softly as I mounted the stairs lightly upon the rich woollen carpet that graced the long hallway and staircase. Turning around I glanced at the winding stairwell, an artwork of symmetry and classical elegance. Before me, the sophistication of European flair, manifested itself powerfully in a masterful combination of architectural forms. I paused deeply in thought, yearning for a bygone era, to experience that which only existed within my childlike imagination.
Walking along the deserted street, my muffled footsteps permeated the silence with striking clarity. The glow of lamps cast a golden haze across the cobblestone pathway and archaic buildings. The stillness of the night was as profound as the smell of winter rainfall, lingering in the air. Walking along, I noticed the various cracks across the facade of buildings, a historical tapestry weaved from the renaissance to the present day. Forlorn yet faded, it seemed as though the passage of time could not efface the beauty these stones, heralding a bygone era.
The large wooden door simplistically adorned beckoned me to enter the deserted street. It was late in the evening; the glow of lamps cast a golden haze across the cobblestone pathway and archaic buildings. The stillness of the night was as profound as the smell of winter rainfall, lingering in the air. Walking along, I noticed the various cracks across the facade of buildings, a historical tapestry weaved from the renaissance to the present day. The scene was forlorn, yet it seemed as though the harsh passage of time could not entirely efface the beauty these stones, heralding a bygone era.