Mounting the ladder I looked up above me to see her pass over the edge. The sun filtered through her hair just as she climbed out of sight leaving floating dust motes forming patterns in the sun’s rays. Once I reached the top and climbed onto the abandoned tracks I saw the sun still illuminating her hair, giving her a halo.
Lost dilapidated ruins aren’t hard to come by, yet seeking a new place in the magic of sunrise isn’t something easily forgot. An old rope swing hanging a few paces ahead of us drew us towards it. Swinging level with buildings with the faint breeze on my face, I looked over the city. The atmospheric haze and golden light gave the view a natural filter. The background of our outing. Had I been in the midst of travel, or simply a block away from my usual coffee shop, I still would have listened to the far off sounds of cars, the tentative crickets, and the urge to continue on as we made another memory.