I’m packing up the things in the attic, going through documents and files. I sort into ‘coming with me’ and ‘staying in storage’.
After a while the redistribution reveals an old writing folder. It is then I have to look at how I am sorting. What have I been doing?
The folder straddles the groups. I may not find any ideas in here that I want to work on but it may make interesting reading for it takes me on a path back to who I was. It is like wending through a forest then standing at the edge of a glade and peeping in upon my past self toiling and playing and dreaming and planning. To see oneself so far away is a curious thing. There were so many future selves and lives then. The gap between then and now is the path of the one I lived. Continue reading
Have you ever gazed at a European forest and wondered what it is that makes them seem so gentle and expansive? I have. The other day I found the secret. Here it is.
On a German road: a young man is zigzagged low over his rollerblades; legs, ankles and feet fast together like a dart; his hair streaming as he is pulled along by a galloping German Shepherd. Continue reading
Posted in Germany, I Spy, I Hear, I Smell, I Taste
Tagged Black Forest, butterflies, carpark, cemeteries, cobblestone street, flowers, footpath, forest, Germany, Jesus statues, landscape, Rhine, rural life, travel
Picking wild raspberries in the Black Forest, southern Germany.
Tiny taste bombs
I feel fulfillingly independent of mankind – like an Earth-child – as I forage. Unfortunately, it’s the shelves at the local Edeka that ultimately provide an adequate feed.