spring travels

From the tavel diaries of a..... bee,....? The spring has just settled in for a couple of weeks only...yet the urge to unveil new realms set me off. So one day i took me and myself plus my "friendly" rucksack - that friendly and close and "dear" to me that it actually cost me quite a lot, plus it kinda stuck on my back, heavy and never easy to forget about. No worries I might leave it behind without actually starting to fly :)

There followed entire days I spent crossing some mountains- the fresh air as well as the amazing sights were breathtaking...But no matter how much one might indulge in the pleasures of discovering this country, of uncovering its richness and marvels, fatigue settles in and after a while, as any traveller would do I tried to find some shelter for the night to come. This brought me to this place full of awkwardly different but beautiful houses... Could this be a village? If so, why were all houses so different? What could that tell me about this people? But as fatigue was becoming my master I left these questions unanswered for the night.

At the horizon, the mountains I have just crossed were looking melancholy towards me...their tears were falling down their face- heavy and white...

but i left their sight behind, turning my eyes towards what captured me from the start-a very beautifully carved gate and a beautiful wooden building. I don't really know what it serves for, but it has a tall tower heading for the warm and perfumed sky of the evening....

My tired feet guided me to the house of the sky- its deep blue taking my thoughts back to Bretagne.... Outside the fragrance of jasmin both took my breath away and made me drunk with beauty- it was like a heavily flavoured wine that gets to your head entangling your thoughts in the interwined, mysterious paths of the mind...

The feeling was amazing, almost extatic... both outside, thanks to the perfume of the jasmin, and inside where a warm and hospitable and welcoming bed was waiting....at its sight my eyes felt unbearably heavy ....I laid down and .....

temoignes...

Les gens souvent passent sans me regarder, sans nous regarder - moi et mon enfant... et ils se croient tous seul dans ce petit univers qui est ma rue...ils ne savent jamais que mon regard est pour eux.

Je les suivis de mes yeux, dechiffrent leurs sentiments- la malice, la fureur, la joie, la surprise...sur leur visage, dans les yeux ou bien, dans leur voix...

Des que je suis venue ici j'ai vu bien de choses- certaines sont incroyables, d'autres tristes, et d'autres (bien nombreuses), pleines de l'esperance de la jeunesse.

Le fait c'est qu'ils se croient seuls- ils parlent, rirent, des fois, ils pleurent meme, et je suis leur temoigne. Un temoigne muet et invisible, comme l'air, comme la brise qu'a peine apercoit...

Every little cobble....

A friend of mine said once that every person has a story to unveil.... True! I'd go as far as to say that everything around has a story. Stories are not just a human characteristic- every little stone, or every leaf has its story. There is a story in the wind, in the silence surrounding us at night, there is a story in the roots and branches of trees, in the fragrance of flowers in spring... We fail to see their story many times. Whispered, sung, or just uttered- they rarely get to us, not because they'd lack essence or import, but rather that we lack the knowledge and patience to listen to their story, to watch their story....

Here is a glimpse into a possible story- imagination and peace will fill the rest of the puzzle...