Walking Strasbourg

I have been getting to know Strasbourg a little at a time, in fits and starts, her most picturesque angles and impressive spaces... a series of first dates, if you will. It takes time to get past facades and surfaces, to see personality and connection under masks. In some ways, cities are no different than people. This city has a soul.

This evening, I got to know her a little better. We spent a few hours together as the sun sank toward the horizon, transforming the canals into liquid gold. She was, like me, in a quiet mood, pensive and many-sided... and we got along well as companions among the evening breezes, having a tete-a-tete of sorts along the quays and old city roads. Our conversations were layered, broad and deep, as I watched and considered the light on the water, the old stone, the people and past that can make up a place...

Emerson and Thoreau advocated walking in the woods, communing with nature in order to know self. I am a mountain girl and I tend toward the woods and high places, windy apertures where I can see the sky in any country and in any language. "Go to the woods," the old writers say, and I happily listen.

But I advocate another path now. To go deeper into self, don't just walk away from all that's human... walk into it. Walk in the old cities, the places that have kept their humanity and history valiantly alive across the centuries. The places where people have lived and loved, destroyed and death-defied across hundreds or thousands of years.

Strasbourg's water doesn't flow only one way... not as you near Petite France, the lochs and dams of long-dead hydro-engineering prowess. Quietly, gently, and without warning, the clean waters of the canals can eddy and change direction in an interplay of current, winds, and managed waters along the channelized River. As I sat contemplating my own time and the strange ways that our histories can haunt us in the ever-dawning present, the waters of Strasbourg agreed.

Over the weekend, I walked across parts of London and Cardiff, cities and villages layered deeply on a long-loved landscape. Since I landed on the continent I've walked across, around, through, and over Strasbourg... and across the Rhine into Germany. Want to know a people's spirit, history, transcendancy? Look at their architecture.

Walk in the depths of city centers and in the quiet spaces along waterways and in old quarters. Find the places people forget to go. Watch the ways humans live in, on, and through a city landscape. See how people are people wherever you go, and what makes them unique.

Watch the organ grinder on the corner lift a voice in song as the winds blow up the waterways and across the Cathedral Square. Notice the nuances of a waiter's face when you ask, "Parlez-vous anglais, Monsieur?" See how photographers contort to find just the right angle and image. Find the places students congregate by the canal pathways, and walk there, too.

Watch the ballerina street performer in her streetclothes, asking permission to dance. Yesterday, as she will tomorrow, she twirls effortlessly across the cobblestones to canned classical music, her tutu faded in the gathering dusk. Today, though, she is a businesswoman dressed in a lady's attire, checking in with the local waiter to find out when she can ply her talent just off the busy patio. In my mind, she is a Russian prima ballerina with a tragic past - a ghost who walks the Strasbourg streets with a memory of fame on her shoulders, her troubled face as craggy as the city's stone bones.

Listen to the street vendors in the marketplace, plying their wares across languages. Watch the couples kissing along bridges and in cobbled side streets, so full of life and promise. Feel the wash of joy that comes with watching children bike and run laughing in the verdant parks. Be still.

Going to the woods cleanses the soul and frees the spirit. Losing oneself in the old cities gives us place, perspective... brings us face to face with our own human-ness. Strasbourg and I became friends tonight. I will walk with her many more times before I depart for my rural haven... and I'm so glad there's more to come.