Lisbon and Lemons

Lisbon is all color. The intensity of light. Somehow it makes me think of lemons. Not just for the obvious reason that there are lemon trees in the gardens. Because the closest way to describe the color is to imagine the midday sun reflecting off ripening lemons. It is that vibrancy, that richness one is after.

I think of streets, their steepness, the way they cavort across the hillside. the cut cobbles (are they still cobbles?) which pave the back lanes, flowing down the sharp escarpments, producing a deeply sss'ing rumble from the cars.

the heat that follows you into the night. Bearable with the airiness of the sea that seems always visible, even if just around the corner or hidden in the dip of the road. The sea calls to you. The freshness of the breeze reminds you that the taste of salt is just at the bottom of the hill.

in the center it is true that it has become a town of tourists. every second window a shop or restaurant. i wonder what it is like to live in this city - a bit like florence though perhaps a tiny bit more balanced, lisbon is after all capital and bigger.

the city faces south west so it basks in the sun, the main hillside perfectly exposed. as the baking heat of summer comes in, as now in mid june, one feels grateful for the narrow alleyways, the storied buildings wedged into the hillside. their gift of shade is most welcome.

And i can also feel a weight of melancholy. maybe it was my own mood. maybe it was because i can also sense what it must be like to tumble down these streets against a gale in winter. but i can sense that behind so much beauty there is also pain. a tragedy of poverty and doomed imperialist ambitions.