Fifth Journey Day 192: Graphite Softening in Humidity

Date: November 16, 2025
Location: Conakry, Guinea

On the Atlantic edge of Conakry in Guinea, the air arrives salted from the sea and softened by the haze. Coastal mangroves and the rise of the Fouta Djallon hills nearby braid marine moisture with earthy scents—an atmosphere that slows breath and, today, my graphite.

Following the Water Inland

This morning, I walked toward the sound of water, following it almost without thinking. The road got narrower quickly, and I could no longer hear the noise of the town behind me. Kindia's air has a sweet, damp quality — it's not floral, but earthy, like warm soil after a light rain. My clothes felt a little tight, but the humidity felt less intense than in Conakry. It was as if the hills were keeping the heat at bay.

Choosing Stillness Over Sketching

The stream appeared out of nowhere. It was just a small dip in the land with a glimmer of light between the rocks. I sat on a flat stone that was still cool from the night. The water moved slowly, going over uneven patches of moss. The sound was steady but not loud, like a soft argument that you could almost feel. I didn't sketch because the graphite felt too fragile in this air, so I just watched.

Passing Voices Across the Stream

A group of children crossed the stream without shoes. They barely looked at me; their voices drifted upward and became faint in the humidity. Their ease made me aware of my own stiffness — the kind that comes from constant movement, from arriving in new places before my body has quite caught up.

The Measure of a Pause

A goat appeared on the other side of the river, stopped for a moment, and then went back into the bushes. I thought about the pause more than the animal itself. I noticed that it seemed to measure the air before stepping forward. I've been noticing that lately I'm drawn to these small pauses, the quiet moments, more than the big ones.

Haze Over the Hills

As I walked back, the hills changed color again — from green to blue under the haze. By late afternoon, the heat thickened, and even my breath felt slower. But there was something calming about the day, something comforting in the combination of water, stone, and slow movement.

I'm still adjusting, but today felt like the first small step towards feeling more stable.

Travel Notes

• Weather: 30°C; heavy humidity with marine haze and an intermittent breeze. Morning cool on stone by the stream; afternoon heat thickened and slowed the day.
• Scents: Earth after light rain, damp moss, and a faint thread of sea salt riding inland.
• Sounds: Steady, low water over rocks; the town’s noise fading to nothing; children’s voices thinning in the humidity; leaves shifting with the breeze.
• Reflection: Letting graphite rest felt right—choosing presence over production, trusting that small pauses can steady the journey.

Continue the Journey

You may also enjoy reading about yesterday’s quiet reflections, or linger with another moment from Guinea where the air teaches patience in its own slow way.