Columbia Road on Sundays!
It's a place of exuberance. Walking down the Columbia Road on Sundays, one has to shut down the reasoning, analyzing mind, and instead open up all his physical senses to the fullest to fantastic colors and forms of flowers and plants, to their nose-chillingly fresh fragrance, and of course - to people's shouting and laughter, too. I feel the hyper-liveliness in the air.
It's a place of exuberance. Walking down the Columbia Road on Sundays, one has to shut down the reasoning, analyzing mind, and instead open up all his physical senses to the fullest to fantastic colors and forms of flowers and plants, to their nose-chillingly fresh fragrance, and of course - to people's shouting and laughter, too. I feel the hyper-liveliness in the air.
I can now understand why my friend wanted to be in the middle of the Columbia Street on his last Sunday in London.
With less than a week left until going back to his home country, he's been extremely busy clearing his apartment, selling furniture, and packing his belongings every day. Still, he buys three bunches of flowers, which he will have to throw away in a few days anyway. The flowers will do their jobs, nevertheless. In the apartment that is being emptied and has to erase its characters every day, the flowers will bring a sense of life and probably even a sense of permanence, not only the fragrance, and keep him going on with the difficult task in his hands and his mind.