I slowly walk down a crowded pathway. There are people of all types swarming around me like a flock of birds. The vintage Vieux Carrè Historic District (also called the French Quarter) in New Orleans provides me with a sense of comfort and optimism. I’ve been here many time before, but each time I catch a glimpse of the classic, Victorian architecture, I re-experience the wave of unique culture as the environment buzzes with activity. I come and go, but somehow I always find my way back. Every time I do, the warm, fuzzy feelings of happiness make my heart swell.

Shades of blues, bright yellows, bold reds, and dismal blacks jump out from every corner of the old colonial buildings. As I continue to follow down the path of carefully paved, tarnished gray bricks, I am transported deeper and deeper into the timeless city that drips with life.

The smooth sound of upbeat jazz floats in the air. I love the melodic tunes that flow from the trumpets and saxophones. People of all ethnicities come together and tap their feet to the harmonic sounds. They whirl and jive with the crowd of familiar strangers. I see the musicians play with passion. Every moment I spend here fills me with enthusiasm and cheerfulness. I try to find a somber face in the booming crowd, but it is impossible to find.

Not too far away, a whistle blows from an old boat pulling up to the familiar Bayou bank. The line of locals and tourists shuffle off the floating steel paradise one by one. The exhausted and overworked mechanics of the boat blow a gray cloud of dust into the air and the moss on the low-hanging trees sways in the wind. Soon enough, a new mass of people squeeze up to wait their turn. The vivacious jazz continues to sweep through the streets.

Vieux Carrè may be strange to some people, but it has always been like home to me. I’m comfortable in the massive herd of people. I enjoy seeing the vibrant nightlife light up the town, bursting with overwhelming excitement. I stop to snap pictures and sift through stores, examining the diverse range of knick knacks that each unique place has to offer. At times, the intense jazz tunes fade away and are replaced with a joyous rhythm of Cajun-style beats. The smell of expensive gumbo and savory seafood wafts out from the infamous restaurants. I can smell the captivating scent of beignets, a delicacy in the area, and can’t resisting buying a bakers dozen. A talented street performer holds up a live alligator to the mesmerized crowd. Across the street lies a gloomy graveyard with endless rows of above-ground tombs. The spirits of the past can almost be seen striding around in the untouched historical area. It really is a wondrous place; there is nowhere else quite like it. I’ve seen all of this a hundred times, but it never fails to
ignite a spark of happiness in my heart. This city has so many gifts to offer.

New Orleans has always been my family’s favorite destination. I look out one more time at the beautiful St. Louis Cathedral and the infamous Jackson Square, knowing I will never forget them. I savor the fond memories that I have made over the years in these lively streets, and hold the feelings of immense joy in my pounding heart.