your headphones. the item you depend on. the item that is always with you. the item that was abandoned for the past three weeks. they’ve been sitting, unused, on your grandma’s couch in taipei.
and why have you not been listening to music, the one thing that always puts an extra step in your walk? the one thing that makes you want to move and skip and dance and jump?
because when you’re surrounded by people you like for an entire twenty-one days, the last thing you want to do is tune them out. music is nice, but the voices of your friends is something you can’t even begin to compare. the jokes. the laughs. the whispers. the shouts. the singing.
but now. they’re gone. the sheets are folded. the bed is empty. and the calm is back. the headphones found themselves back in your ears today as you came back alone from dropping off the last remaining friend at the airport.
it is tranquil. not for too long. but while it is here, you take the time to finally look at some photos. and finally you’re ready to go back to the end of april and the month of may.
to when there was a heavy loaf of french bread called the boulot on the table as well as a jar of homemade kombucha.
a place where the wind would blow and the weather would change. the only thing certain was that the atlantic ocean was always cold. but that didn’t stop you from dipping your feet into it.
here, at île de ré. the western coast of france. you camped. for an entire five weeks. while you worked as a volunteer for a local bird and nature reserve.
wherever you were, you always had your jumelles with you. binoculars. because they were essential for seeing.
and indeed, so many things were seen. that everybody will also see soon.