Trip to the Museum
Trip to the Museum
It’s the first Saturday of March, on a cold morning with a clear sky and a radiant sun, I decided to visit a museum in downtown Saint Louis, Missouri. I’m arriving at eleven o’clock, a little bit late to what I was expecting because the Metrolink train had a delay due to technical problems. The museum is located exactly below the famous Gateway Arch of Saint Louis. I have heard that it’s an excellent place to learn about American History and the way America expanded to the West.
I am walking on the Getaway Arch Trail, big robust ash trees are standing at each side of the trail guiding everyone towards the entrance of the museum. The sun shines in all its glory all over the place. At my right a family of geese is swimming in a little blue pond, the mother is being followed by three innocent baby geese. It seems like they are learning to swim, learning how to obtain the food, learning how to relate to others, learning how to survive. On my left side is flowing a large natural stream of water, the Mississippi River. Many tourists are standing on the riverfront, a couple of meters at the East of the Gateway Arch, just observing delightfully the magnitude and dimension of the Mighty Mississippi.
While I am continuing walking toward the entrance of the entrance of the museum, an old white man, probably a tourist, sixty or sixty five years old with a black and red bonnet, a light brown leather coat, black pants and brown shoes is leaving the museum with a woman almost about his age, who I think is his wife. They both are complaining about an issue they had inside the museum, I cannot understand really well what the issue was about but they are leaving at a rapid pace almost shouting at each other. The noisy couple is gone, but they caught the attention of everybody around them, even frightening little children.
Twenty five meters before the access door of the museum, a long line of people is stopping me. In order to get in, I have to wait from
It’s the first Saturday of March, on a cold morning with a clear sky and a radiant sun, I decided to visit a museum in downtown Saint Louis, Missouri. I’m arriving at eleven o’clock, a little bit late to what I was expecting because the Metrolink train had a delay due to technical problems. The museum is located exactly below the famous Gateway Arch of Saint Louis. I have heard that it’s an excellent place to learn about American History and the way America expanded to the West.
I am walking on the Getaway Arch Trail, big robust ash trees are standing at each side of the trail guiding everyone towards the entrance of the museum. The sun shines in all its glory all over the place. At my right a family of geese is swimming in a little blue pond, the mother is being followed by three innocent baby geese. It seems like they are learning to swim, learning how to obtain the food, learning how to relate to others, learning how to survive. On my left side is flowing a large natural stream of water, the Mississippi River. Many tourists are standing on the riverfront, a couple of meters at the East of the Gateway Arch, just observing delightfully the magnitude and dimension of the Mighty Mississippi.
While I am continuing walking toward the entrance of the entrance of the museum, an old white man, probably a tourist, sixty or sixty five years old with a black and red bonnet, a light brown leather coat, black pants and brown shoes is leaving the museum with a woman almost about his age, who I think is his wife. They both are complaining about an issue they had inside the museum, I cannot understand really well what the issue was about but they are leaving at a rapid pace almost shouting at each other. The noisy couple is gone, but they caught the attention of everybody around them, even frightening little children.
Twenty five meters before the access door of the museum, a long line of people is stopping me. In order to get in, I have to wait from