…when I’ve got this outside!
Spring sunshine!
Spring oxygen!
Spring growth!
Spring green!
Spring birdsong!
Spring fresh air!
Spring joy!
Spring flowers!
Can you find any of the above in the following images?
Or better yet…go out and find them yourself.
There is no Arabia Felix without the Rub al Khali.
Rub al Khali–the Empty Quarter…a massive natural and cultural enigma…
I can not escape its sand. I can not escape.
After the death of winter comes a rebirth of life, of beauty, of joy.
What is this? …overflowing with the bounty of beauty…
Slack jaw…? Silly statistics.
I’m an American.
In 1982, I acquired an International Drivers License as I prepared to go, via Europe, to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. According to the sequential license numbering, I was one of 511,000 International Drivers License holders.
In 2006, 24 years later, I acquired another International Drivers License, as I prepared to go, via Europe, to the United Arab Emirates. According to that same sequential license numbering, this time I was one of 71,000,000 International Drivers License holders.
My conclusion. Airline ticket prices have not grown as fast as inflation. You can ask yourself why. Myself, I had more fun with my primrose and crazy paving post.
Where to find it?
Today I was lucky.
I discovered hope in a simple home made courtyard.
When looking for hope…it can always be found…don’t give up…expand your search…change the scale of observation…works for me. Primula vulgaris and flagstone paving.
All of us are experiencing quarantine in one form or another.
But the edge of town? What is that? Traditionally the edge of town was the place where fertile flat lands were cultivated for agriculture that was more valuable than town housing. And necessary.
So, yesterday I took a walk–quarantine all around. Walked by myself. As I walked across town, I saw an open bakery, an open grocery store and an open drug store. Everything else was closed.
The town had plenty signs of spring–the forsythias always shout with joy.
At the edge of town, I saw the agricultural landscape, the spring green of willow trees and the hopeful construction of a tree house.
Then I saw the farmhouse–so many activities related to food. Farms are amazing producers and guardians.
At one entry to the farmhouse, I was reminded of the simplest of their products–available almost any day of the year. Direct from the farm: eggs, jams, Alp cheese, goat cheese.
Quarantined? Take a walk. Check out the edge of town.
Yeah, I know it’s dangerous to call ‘Spring’ in mid-March, in the Northern Hemisphere in the mountains.
But these harbingers were shouting at me.
The problem is…I have misplaced Winter.
Clouds, almost like lingerie on a quiet, sunny winter day–the level of mystery–what is really there that I can’t see? I want to see more.
Lord Byron saw it in storm and had quite a different take, documented in his poem, ‘Manfred‘.
The view south toward the Jungfrau massif from the Interlaken region. Real estate agents might call this the million dollar view.
As I observe old age taking interest in my body, it shades my observations of the landscape.
This apple tree is also under the influence of old age; yet it has retained a balance even though having experienced extreme events during its lifetime. Everybody struggles through life. But how to achieve balance? That is a mystery. Faith? Hope?
