Departure stations

As I approached to greet her, the woman extended both her hands. "This is Beirut," she said... a woman as majestic as a legend, strong, beautiful, and enigmatic. I saw her brocade shawl cascading from her broad shoulders, down to the slender waist and then to her toes. I saw her bracelets, earrings, and necklaces—gold and studded with emeralds and rubies—dangling from her arms, her ears, and her smiling, ivory head. In her eyes, I discerned that profound, feminine tenderness that belongs only to mothers... and on her lips, I foretold joy, intimacy, and tranquility. As I approached to greet her, the woman extended both her hands. "This is Beirut," she said... a woman standing tall like a legend, strong, beautiful, and enigmatic. I noticed that her flowing shawl hung from her high shoulders, cascading down to her slender waist and reaching to her toes. I saw her bracelets, earrings, and gold necklaces, studded with emeralds and rubies, dangling from her wrists, ears, and smiling ivory neck. In her eyes, I saw that profound feminine tenderness that remains the preserve of mothers... and on her lips, I read the sparkle of warmth, joy, and serenity.