Pavel Pech's Work
original text, October 2006
Big city life runs unstoppably forward and it’s hard not to hurry with it when living in the city. But there are still places that do not care about the things outside. Cut off from the annoying fuss, it waits there in the middle of green carpet and listens to the sounds of city.
Cars and trucks and busses go somewhere all the time, shouting with their horns in hope to move faster. The announcing of next tram station comes from the distance. The words from hundreds of mounts mix into incomprehensible chaos. Only a trained ear of a dog can hear silent singing of birds and the loud barks let anyone know about it.
You have to open your eyes to make sure you’re really sitting there and not in the middle of street. You see no cars or trams, only tall spreading trees – a bounding wall protecting the piece of land. The colored leaves dance in the wind and when they get tired, they fall downstairs to sleep there with others of their kind. The fresh green of summer slowly changes to colorful autumn painting.
A dog is racing around and sniffing every inch to find whatever he wants to find – a mouse, a bird, a sign of another dog, or an unfinished hamburger from the outer space. Everything is there and it has different aroma. But the blatant smell of cars and factories, of the cigarette in your mount, it hides everything.
It’s getting late, the sky darkens and stars are appearing above. But you cannot wait to see them. The wind is getting cold. The rough wooden planks under you are getting uncomfortable for your delicate behind. Your dog sniffed and licked everything he could. You need to return to the life of city.
You know the bench will wait for you. It will stay there as long as the people want to have their small breaks in nature, even through it still sounds and smells like city there.