After taking our time by the settlement, we decided to cycle in to Coney island - an even smaller island surrounded by beautiful trees and home to some of the prettiest butterflies, a wild boar and a lone cow that mysteriously settled in this rustic wonderland.
An elderly man cycled past me along the path that was guided by tall trees on each side, and the particular scene I witnessed from behind brought a wave of nostalgia to me. I wondered if this would have been a common setting in my island, had it not been metropolised. Did the path resemble the one my grandmother used to walk through to get home?
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