Fifth Journey Day 64: When the Pond Forgot the Sky
Date: July 11, 2025
Location: Bălți, Moldova
I arrived in Bălți without any particular expectations. The trip here felt a little blurry — the bus windows were smudged with streaks of summer dust, and villages passed quickly like short breaths. The city greeted me with gray buildings, peeling stucco, and sagging cables between poles. Still, I found a kind of quiet dignity in that ordinariness.
After dropping my things at the guesthouse, I walked to the municipal park. The pond in the center wasn't big, but its light was like a held breath. The children's voices sounded far away, not loud, but like birdsong through fabric. I sat on a low bench beneath a tree with a trunk scarred from years of initials and pocket knives. For a long time, I just listened.
The water was like a mirror, showing the dull clouds above, and an orange leaf drifted slowly and not perfectly in the water. I sketched loosely — not to capture the exact scene, but the feeling of watching something drift, weightless but certain. A dog passed by, and then a boy riding a bike. No one stayed long.
There was nothing special to see that day. It's just the slow spreading of quiet — between sounds, between movements, between my thoughts. I'm reminded again that not every city sings when you arrive. Some sit beside you quietly and wait.
Tonight, I feel a little empty, but not in a bad way. It's like a bowl that's been rinsed. I'll go to bed early. I don't need answers right now. I just need you to keep paying attention to whatever comes up next.
