Only until recently, my happy place was to take a walk in the depressing English weather to my favourite coffee shop, where I could sit for hours reading boring BA theory by the light of sparkly fairly-lights, candles, and super hipster music. I guess the memories of my BA are dewy with nostalgia already, but it’s a happy way to remember the last three years.
Now, thrown into an entirely unknown situation, I’ve had to find another happy place. Now, perhaps, it’s more important than ever that I have somewhere I can take a timeout.
In the early morning, or the early afternoon, the neighbourhood takes on a rare and romantic quietude, which is strange for the constant chaos of Jordan’s cities.
I try and take an hour every day to sit on the roof, or hide beneath the lemon and olive trees, and just soak up the peace. It’s pretty much heaven.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Happy Place.”