A Wednesday Walk Along the Riverbank

A Wednesday Walk Along the Riverbank

There’s something magical about walking along a quiet riverbank on a weekday night, especially on a Wednesday — that soft transition between the weight of the week and the promise of rest. It’s late enough to leave behind the rush of daily routines, but still early enough to feel like the world is holding its breath before the weekend begins.

The air was cool but not cold, carrying a faint scent of leaves and water. The moon hung low, its reflection shimmering in the slow, steady current of the river. Streetlights cast long shadows from the trees lining the path, while the occasional rustle of leaves overhead hinted at the presence of small night creatures going about their quiet business.⁹