06/04/2010 § 2 Comments
I just can’t get over how beautiful Fall in Buenos Aires is: the sun is shining and warm, the breeze is brisk, the sky is a celectial-blue, and the porteños are finally busting out their fashion saviness.
The evolution and fad of fashion doesn’t really appeal to me. I think it is ridiculous that we change our look every season to appeal, or be apart of, a greater image. For that reason, I am a classicist. I like clean lines, a little flare of personality, black, white, every shade between and one colour choice, whether it be brown, red, or blue. Yesterday, as I stepped out onto the street, mine eyes were filled with a city at its height of aesthetic:Every single person was wearing black. I, quite literally, felt as though I had stepped into The Matrix. It was awesome.
The trees still have their green leaves, even some purple Fall-flowers have begun to bloom. Alongside the teal-coloured, antique cupulas of the city, the aging-white brick of the buildings, fresh, green grass growing up the walls and onto the rooftops, the city has never looked so beautiful. It’s as though the Argentines have become mono-chromatic out of respect for the scenery around them. They took out the cheesiness of animal-print and lime-green spandex — at least most of it — and replaced it with tasteful dark-knitwear and indigo-skinny jeans.
I am loving the scenery so much that if (when) I come back, I want to be back long enough for the Winter. I heard that it gets to 15-degrees celcius by day and no lower than zero at night. I feel slightly disturbed that I have begun to really appreciate cold weather. I always thought I was a summer-baby, wanting to sit underneath the sun and sweat to my heart’s content. What is happening? Did I really change all that much? Am I actually starting to miss the cold?
I find my heart skipping a beat every so often when I ask myself these questions. I have come to realize that the reason I loved Summer so much was because I had endured a Winter. The short days coupled with freezing temperatures always seemed to put me into my darkest depths. Now, I feel like I appreciate those moments, having stepped away from them for some months. As I look back, those moments were the most productive moments I had ever experienced, punching out papers in record time, working full-time hours, drinking dirty beer in the darkest corners of the darkest bars during the darkest days.
Alas, it was nice to take a break, but as the days get shorter, as our cement floor gets colder and I can feel the chill through socked-feet, I am slightly lamenting the return home. Not because I don’t want to see friends and family, but because I pine for the days of cold and darkness. I want a Winter.