The Story I Didn’t Tell (Yet)
Vienna, August, quiet air, soft pause
There’s a story I almost shared last week.
I drafted the first lines. I even chose the image. But something in me said, not now.
Maybe you know that feeling.
When something is true but still tender.
When the timing is just a little off, even if no one else would notice.
It happened at one of my favorite places to walk in August: the back side of the Belvedere, near the Alpine Garden. The crowds stay up front, near Klimt. But if you slip through the gates around 7:30 in the morning, when the gardeners are still drinking their coffee, you can sometimes have the whole slope to yourself.
That morning, a woman was sitting on the gravel wall reading an old hardback book. Her legs crossed at the ankle, a cloth bag beside her. I watched for a second. She wasn’t performing. She was simply there.
I wanted to write about it.
How rare it is these days to see someone reading a book, in a city, without checking their phone every few pages.
I wanted to describe her dress. The way the light hit the yellowed pages. The way Vienna felt in that moment, like it was still holding space for private joys.
But I didn’t.
Not because it wasn’t beautiful.
Because it wasn’t mine.
I didn’t want to turn her into a metaphor.
She wasn’t a lesson.
She was a person having a quiet morning.
And so that story stayed in my notebook.
It might come back later. Or it might not.
But that moment reminded me why I write Understanding Vienna the way I do.
Slowly. Privately at first. Waiting for the right shape, not just the right sentence.
August, in case you’re wondering
It’s a soft month in Vienna.
Not empty, just quiet in different ways.
The locals take turns disappearing. The ones who stay keep their routines. I like slipping into the rhythm of a slower city.
Here’s what I’ve been doing or recommend doing this August:
🪷 Mornings at the Alpengarten or walking the shaded path behind the Lower Belvedere
🎧 Listening to Gustav Mahler’s Rückert-Lieder while passing under the chestnuts at Stadtpark
🪑 Sitting in the cool shade of Pötzleinsdorfer Schlosspark, where the light feels old
🍑 Picking up soft peaches and dark grapes from the Brunnenmarkt
📚 Re-reading Zweig’s The World of Yesterday while the afternoon heat passes
It’s not a list of sights.
It’s a way of being here.
Why I’m writing to you like this
Because I think you understand.
This project, this city, isn’t about spectacle.
It’s about timing. Emotion. Space.
Some stories take months to tell.
Others just need to be witnessed.
And if I can offer anything in return for your time here with me, it’s the reminder that you don’t need to rush what matters.
Not your writing.
Not your voice.
Not your presence.
This is how Understanding Vienna unfolds slowly, honestly, one story at a time.
Until next week,
Yolanda