Fifth Journey Day 52: The Smudge That Stayed

Date: June 29, 2025
Location: Gdańsk, Poland

I got in this morning on the train, still a little groggy from sleep. The station was busy but calm, and as I stepped outside, the city didn't give me a big welcome — it was just a quiet unfolding. The streets near the old town were wet from the rain that had fallen. I walked slowly, the wheels of my suitcase hitting the cobblestones, the air on my face feeling strange but also familiar.

I spent the early afternoon sitting by the Mot zejnice River, not far from the medieval crane. The water was a dull gray-green that looked like brushed metal. The buildings were reflected in the water, which was marked by broken lines. The reflection was sometimes disturbed by boats or wind. I sketched slowly, letting the surface change and show me what I thought I saw. At one point, a seagull was flying above the dock. It was not moving with the wind. Then it disappeared without making a sound.

I didn't talk to anyone. It felt right to hold the day quietly, without explaining myself. I thought about how this city has held so many versions of itself — how amber, trapped for centuries in resin, now sits polished in shop windows. I thought about how cities, like people, don't always show you what's beneath the surface right away.

I stayed longer than I planned. The pencil smudges on the page are soft and not clear. I may not keep the sketch, but I'll remember how the river seemed quiet and how the pale light made everything feel a little like it was in slow motion.

Tonight, I feel calm. I'm still getting used to it and still learning. But something in me has already started to take root.