oh to live in Sydney

I spent the weekend in Sydney for my cousin’s birthday. The trip was a blur of dinners, ferries, late nights and loud conversations. Like everyone else, I ended up by the harbour, looking at the Opera House. It is the image on every postcard, the landmark people travel across the world to see. I get why it is loved, but it is never the part that inspires me.

While crowds focused on the water and the white sails, I watched the people. Strangers dressed for a night out. Friends laughing too hard at nothing. A couple arguing in low voices. A girl sitting alone on the steps with hot chips and zero shame. These were the moments that caught my attention. Unstaged and unpolished. Real.

Cities are full of tiny stories that slip past most people. They are not symmetrical, perfect or planned. They exist for a second, and then they are gone. I find more beauty in those passing moments than in any skyline.

Everyone else can stare at the landmark. I will keep looking at the lives unfolding around it.