Remembering somewhere in between
Recently I have been on the way to Lucerne, when the tram stopped for an unusual long time at Stauffacher tram stop in Zurich. I looked out the window onto a street crossing. I have seen this area many times before, but this time it was different, it reminded me immediately of a short episode, when I was a child, walking with my mother in my home city Basel.
I don't know what exactly triggered this memory at this moment. Maybe the sun shining through the trees generating dappled shade on the street? Maybe the people, who passed this t-corner-street with the shops or a woman smoking a cigarette, gazing into one of the shop windows..
I remember this small place close to the old post office building in Basel, me clinging on to the hand of my mother and a tram ride on one of these old trams, cool air flowing through the tram, I liked this feeling a lot. The tram had high steps to get in and out through the sliding door and there was a small standing area and another door leading to the seating area with wooden banks and chairs. A distant memory, a happy memory, but at the same time a sad one too. Although sometimes there is one of these old trams still rattling through the streets of Basel as a special attraction, my mum isn't here anymore.
I don't know what exactly triggered this memory at this moment. Maybe the sun shining through the trees generating dappled shade on the street? Maybe the people, who passed this t-corner-street with the shops or a woman smoking a cigarette, gazing into one of the shop windows..
I remember this small place close to the old post office building in Basel, me clinging on to the hand of my mother and a tram ride on one of these old trams, cool air flowing through the tram, I liked this feeling a lot. The tram had high steps to get in and out through the sliding door and there was a small standing area and another door leading to the seating area with wooden banks and chairs. A distant memory, a happy memory, but at the same time a sad one too. Although sometimes there is one of these old trams still rattling through the streets of Basel as a special attraction, my mum isn't here anymore.
