January 8, 2010
Everyday after work, I walk home. If I walk fast, it usually takes me about an hour and 15 minutes to get home. I enjoy this walk. When I walk, I observe things around me. As a result, I begin to notice things, beautiful things which I would have missed if I took a bus home instead.
The bank I work is located next to the Caspian Sea. The area is quiet. It has some of the nicest boulevards in town. The avenue which I take my daily walk is very wide, relatively clean, and with less traffic. The apartments in the neighborhoods are very old but have some nice European features, high ceiling with a charming little balcony, but what attracts me the most is the olive tree growing along the sidewalk of every street.
I first noticed the tree by its fruits, but were not sure what they were. Most of my PCV friends are not nature lovers so no one could really tell me the name of the tree. Until one day, my teacher told me that it was the olive tree. Once I found out what they are, I could not help but looking at them everyday as I walk underneath them. There are still some small olives on the branches, some of them are block and some of them are green. The Azerbaijani would pick them in the fall and pickle them for the winter.
The olive tree is not very tall, and its leaves are small with dark green color. Judging by its appearance, you would not say it is a beautiful tree. For me, however, it is a special tree. It reminds me the healthy olive oil I used to put in my salad at home. This tree is the closest thing that connects me back home, maybe that is why I like it so much.
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