Observations

I had spent the afternoon walking to a park in the midday sun. My AI tool told me it would be lovely on a spring Saturday afternoon. The AI tool was right, and the park, El Jardin Japonés, was perfect.

Instead of rushing back to my neighborhood, I explored the area around the park and stopped for a late afternoon snack. In Buenos Aires, dinner isn’t until 9 p.m., so stopping at 4 p.m. for food and wine is not uncommon. Many restaurants even have a mid-day menu.

It was a German restaurant (of course it was), so I ordered a dry crisp Riesling, some brotchen with liverwurst and pickled veggies, and a small dish of olives.

As I sat there, I felt like I wanted to write. Random inspiration doesn’t happen to me often, so I opened my phone and went with it. The scene I wrote? Just this week, I decided to write it into the opening of my book, which is probably what spurred these thoughts, too.

After that, with another glass (or two) of that lovely Riesling, I wrote down some of my observations, perhaps with a bit more hope than was realistic that I would remember what each thing meant and write about it later.

Instead, I will share the random observations, as they are in my notes. You can share the head-scratching wonder with me. Did I expect to remember and be inspired by these notes?

Does something below make you want to know more? Your suggestions might inspire me to write a flash piece.

Little dog carrying a Big Stick

A woman running across the street in front of a motorbike, the man telling her, “Of course, no worries.” Me? Almost yelling… “run! run! run!”

Hippies

Suits

Casual date night

Fighting couple

Lady with the little dog with a face mask and broken leg. She went and came back. Twice.

Gringos go inside. Coming out… “Pizza is great!”

Guy with grey man-bun passing by. Changes his mind and goes back where he came from.

Dads with a baby, on their phones.

There's something about being in a new city in the evening, watching the world pass by while you drink wine. Well, even in Berlin—my city—I get that feeling: calm, a moment outside myself, an observation. Who are they? And how do I get the honor of observing them?

The drips of the AC falling on me and switching seats.

Breeze blowing the heat of the wine.

Voices from the restaurant, a dull hymn behind me.

People casually dressed. Not as fancy as Medellin. Not as casual in NY. Maybe Buenos Aires is a lot like Berlin. With more respect.

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