I walk through the town, wandering through the narrow streets. I look up. The many bright colours of the facades catch my eye. How different the windows of each house are. When I look more closely, I see so much more. Maybe a woman looking down from a window. A hidden roof terrace, revealed only by a few plants. Two pigeons on a window sill having their morning chat. I let my eyes wander further. 

I see this view every day. Sometimes it’s green, sometimes it’s grey. At breakfast, I check the clock on the tower so I don’t arrive late. This view means home.