Asphalted paradise

 

In the controlled chaos of the city, trucks and cars tangoed to the dance of the round-about; hungry locals scurry to any little spot to satisfy at least the belly’s desires before dutifully returning to their assigned post; the mid-day heat rages, threatening to consume every part of everything, competing, it seems with the moderate trade-winds, warm on the face yet still soothing. At this time of day the city felt less of island and more of maddening monotony. One almost expected the gloom and depression of a concrete jungle… anything except the contradictory beauty and alive rhythm of this (potential) paradise.

st kitts town clock

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