Fifth Journey Day 53: Laughter Through Stonework

Date: June 30, 2025
Location: Toruń, Poland

I spent most of the afternoon at the Teutonic Castle ruins, which are located inside the old brick shell. It's as if the castle is breathing slowly, like it's holding its breath between centuries. The air was cool, and the stones felt close — not overwhelming, but present, like they had chosen to stay put. Moss stuck to the bottom parts of the walls in uneven clumps. It was brighter than I thought it would be. It's somewhere between decay and resilience.

I didn't start sketching right away. I sat on a bench that had seen better days. I watched the ivy move in the breeze and the light fall unevenly through what was once a ceiling. It reminded me of things left open by necessity, not design.

Eventually, I took out my small piece of paper and tried to describe the feeling, not the scene. I thought about how quiet it was, and how it felt to look at the structure, even though it was in ruins. My hands felt steady but slow. The lines I made weren't perfect, but they were patient.

A child ran through the courtyard while I was drawing. She was laughing and didn't care about the ruins. Her energy broke the stillness in a way that wasn't rude. It's more like a reminder. Even in places built for war, life finds a way to continue.

I left after two hours, with my fingertips slightly smudged and a corner of the paper creased. Nothing too exciting happened. But the space needed something, and I gave it. That felt like enough.