The Canals

Fall is quickly approaching. The shadows become longer and the nights are starting earlier. The lazy, carefree days of summer have turned into a slightly more scripted kind of living. The city seems to transform itself into a new creature each season. She smiles as young school children run to tell their waiting parents what they learned that day in school. Some of the kids turn her way and wave and others look away quickly.
A bitter wind begins biting at her cheeks as she perches on a bench overlooking the canal. She pulls out her notebook and begins soaking in Amsterdam in the fall. Another gust comes and ruffles her papers. She glances out towards the ocean and sees an ominous wall of dark clouds rapidly advancing.
The tall canal houses lining the waterways form a picture that looks like playhouses ready to host a tea party. Pointy roofs or flat and grand on top, each building is unique and mysterious. The sun is still shinning enough to cast their reflection on the canals below making a mirror image of this toy village. They are all made of red brick though some are beginning to show their age with various stages of fading, while others have been painted a dark red. It is only by color that you can tell they are all individual. The tall rectangle windows gracing the front of each building are like portals into another world, another story that needs to be told. One bye one, the windows are being shut to block out the onslaught of chilly gusts from the advancing storm and the lights being turned on to ward off the darkness.
Margaretha briefly closes her eyes and reopens them in order to take in the story playing out in front of her. The people dressed in long coats, were walking swiftly over the slippery, rugged brown and grey cobblestone streets trying to get to their destination before the deluge. The street lights were beginning to cast their glow on the city. Bikes were noisily complaining while being navigated through the rough terrain and cars swiftly traversing through the too busy streets. The canal boats were quickly motoring in to dock for the evening and the large ships were steaming towards the safety of the harbor. Everyone and everything was on a mission and moved together seamlessly through an orderly chaos. She feels like a small puzzle piece in a grand picture that only she is able to appreciate.
The rain approaches like a curtain covering a window. She slowly stands up and gathers her notebook and belongings. She begins winding her way through the rain sodden streets, dodging cars, bikes and people while humming a new song that she was sure to be an emotional piece. She is anxious to sit in front of her cello and create her new work and hopefully be able to share it with others soon.