A Quiet Morning in Amsterdam

 It was a mild summer morning as I walked through the streets of Amsterdam. It was a weekday, so the streets were quiet and nearly empty. Apart from some cyclists passing by silently, as if they were trying to soak in the silence hanging in the air.

As I walked over the sidewalk I could hear the sand grinding underneath my sneakers. I heard the squeaking of boots as someone walked past me, fading quickly as they made their way to wherever the day was leading them. Nearby, in the canal, water was sloshing softly against the brick wall of the quay. Seagulls were floating in circles through the air, distantly screeching things to one another.


Sounds seemed to feel so significant at that moment. It almost felt eerily silent at times, which made me appreciate the sounds around me so much more. It was nearly solemn.


I silently made my way along the canal lined street. I could hear the ding of the tram, as I stepped over the tracks and crossed the road. I could still hear the seagulls, but as the canals grew more distant, their screeching grew faint. The smell of weed faded in and out, while I passed a couple of coffee shops.

Two people discussed something in German. And as I walked past an Italian having a casual phone chat, I realized that I've heard no Dutch coming from anyone other than myself. Quite a strange thing, I thought to myself, when you're in your own country and you're the only one speaking the language.


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