down small alleys we find

truth. I’ve found the little walkways offer a view of how true life is in a place. We can capture little life scenes missing from the grand sweep of time. Or space. Instead we find the truth of a moment sometimes captured with how life happened to be. How a person or family or community found their moments. Maybe they left behind even more. What we archeologists of life are left with is a truth frozen in time. The painters scrawl leaves a fragment of beauty, anarchy and of course truth.

Was there a moment some woman sat in the chair? Watching her alley lead to our next stop?

Wonder. Sometimes maybe most times wonder is given down small and darkly lit places where imagination runs supreme. We can ask the why and how questions of the happenstance things that came to pass as our little side street changed. I walked this self same alley years ago in wonder. Small restaurants and bars welcomed and I felt caught in Siem Reap between the real and the wondrous. Caught like all my moments in the flesh and film of time.

I deliberately slowed my pace this time. Searching those synapses for the wonder of before. But all places like this show a shy scene. I’m left with desire and emotion and I see something rolling and roiling along.

Beauty. We often find it where we seek it less but how the sun strikes and the shade turns down this little thing pace left me with this expression. I could almost taste those days before and the beauty then. But now even the silence is beauty in so many ways.

When I returned I did not look for all of them. I looked for nothing and let it all come to me. Including the walk down side streets in Siem Reap. And you know what?

It did.