second tome- summer wine

summer wine

Time never seems to fly faster than when we want it to stop...it is like it obstinates to do its will, against ours. And the faster it flies, the drunker we get- with feelings, sensations, all senses being entwined in our mind's realm of souvenirs... And yet, or exactly because of this drunkness at the end of summer the sweet-sour taste of wine is all there is, plus probably a scrapbook of visual captures of past moments....

sunday laze and little booze

just moon

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...

Easter

Just wishing a very Happy Easter and Joyeuses Paques for those who celebrate Easter this Sunday! May you enjoy the beloved's presence and love!

" sprinter"

spring + winter =.....?..... "sprinter????" What started as a very shy spring some days ago became a very brave and bold spring. I guess these are some of the advantages of the global warming..... or maybe it's just me trying to see the full side of the glass.

missing the winter d'autre fois....

That night the fresh, sweet and mild air was like the one they used to breathe while in one of the small villages scattered among hills and valleys. It was not the air of oncoming spring, but of winter, quite surprisingly a pre-Christmas winter. It reminded her a lot of long time ago, when she used to spend her winterholidays somwhere near the mountains with her grandparents. It smelled like burnt wood, smoke playfully coming out of chimneys. It smelled of people chattering around the fire, of women preparing traditional meals, of men talking over a glass of moonstone of the "serious" matters of the village, of kids anxiously expecting the next day sledging.
It was night, winter, after a several days snow....now it had stoppedand a freezing cold was conquering the village and its surroundings. Everything was so white and so light; in spite of the dark night outside all things seemed to have an inner light of their own. And everything was so frozen that almost all noises- footsteps on snow, gates being opened and then closed- almost sounded like broken ice.
Here and there some lonely dog was barking out loud its miserable life. Others always answered, closer and more distant, all joined by a clear cold echo.
That night there were lights in the sky- a huge bright moon and her billion little sisters must be having a ball...
Everything is so clear and fresh in her memory as if it all happened this last Christmas....and yet entire years passed by like eagles in their flight. The same SHE was trying to find the same sky, to grasp the same air, feeling like then. Only the faint breeze of air "d'autant" was present... The light of the earth were more powerful than those in the sky, the fragrances around her were stronger than those of the nature in winter. She was surrounded by parfumes and exquisite flavours; the cigarette smoke and the expesive drinks were invading her, sometimes the air becoming so heavy and overwheming that it almost choked her.
The infatuated laughters, the innuendo, the mean gossip floating within the room were almost hurting...she was wondering: "why hasn't anyone invented the time machine yet?"....
And she was at Aspen....

"Parliament controversy"- winter: good or bad???? NC

who said the winter was heading towards the region of the rising sun?....last week or so the sight of fragile, yet so powerful through their fragrance, made my thoughts wander towards warmth and sun and life. Spring seemed so close I my fingertips could almost touch it...it was practically there in front of me...so powerful and so life giving, and so generous in itself. it was like nature came to life- little shy flowers tempted by the warm light of the sun rays, the sky,the birds, people's faces, but most of all the air, so rich and full of je ne sais quoi. Something you can only feel but you're quite incapable of verbalizing...that's spring...feeling happy without an apparent reason, feeling powerful and yet not having an ounce more in your possession that the other day, not being alone all the while wandering the streets by yourself... That's spring....the way I felt it some time ago....

but then in a matter of hearbeats i looked outside...my eyes and face were "hit" by white. Amazing and ironic how the same white of snow can be so longed for before a certain day, and how menacing and somehow disturbing in our little petty and shallow daily habits...how come the snow so pure and so often associated with childhood memories and bells of sledges seems now , on the threshold of spring, to have become just...well, just white and cold, and blizzard...whining drivers, horns, jam, nerveous swearing and breakdown....yet we do fail to see that it's the same white, the same pure snow...we fail to see that maybe things in nature, all around us don't necessarily evole around us...we human beings are not the ones to have set the things going...there is a bigger picture here than just us getting comfortably to our jobs in the morning, or than us filling our bags with more and more food for the body and less with food for thought...so we end up complaining:
- look there is so much water in the streets because of all this melted snow!- oh damn! it's cold again, dear. Have you heard? they said it'd be - 5. Oh God. I so hate the cold!....- comon, can't you see I'm in a hurry?!?!? cross the damn street for once and for all, old man! Why don't you stay home if you can't even drag your two boney feet...? We are trying to get to work here....
and so on...all day long....every day appears to come with its own list of human complaints- weather, injustice, poverty.... and again , i really have to use this word again, as i said again ironically you , i most, of us fall in this trap of the whining immortal souls over mortal and insgnificant trifles...
trying to detach myself from it a bit here's a glimpse of the beauty of what we so much blame - winter...