I keep tireless traveling but the places I haven’t been yet, will be always more than visited ones. Years ago, people were collecting stamps from the known states. I did as well, even got more than fifteen seals, and what? A mathematician used to compare the quantity of women with whom he did sleep with the quantity of women that he would never touch. The first grew at the expense of the second one – but timely. And the second one would never to go to minus infinity. Just let us define what it means to have visited a place? If you overnight once in Dakar, Senegal, would you cross across the whole area of Africa? Do you know entirely the U.S.A., if traveling through two or three states only? Sometimes, it takes a whole life to understand a country. The world is endless. The task is impossible but this is not sad at all. Au contrary, I still try to balance both multitudes of known and unknown areas.
Have a nice trip!
SCIJ and FIJET member
When I am the happiest, I watch the fir trees and pines from above and ponder who and how does he stack rows of three or five-pointed sprouts on top of the trees, which are to be branches in the future. Sometimes there are only two – so little, and sometimes – even eight, and again on the stem there are buds and there are new progeny, a next line of shoots wide and round, i.e. expansion and growth. Of course, there is only one way to observe the tops of conifers – when using a lift to get on the slopes, and your heart is calm not to beat for anything else. For me, these are rare moments of happiness. And how to hear happiness? Again in the mountains, in clear winter days the snow squeaks in a special way under the ski. I have presumed that this tight wheezing, which does not happen often, is the sound of pure nature in harmony.
I dream of you often, but I have no way to tell you. Now I’m the same age I remember you to be.
The untimely bourne grand daughter… you could have hated me, insted you taught me to love and how to be
selfless, to hurry home where it’s nice. It’s like I’ve watched from the side as
you put me to sleep and nit me a woolen vest. Some evenings you used to peel apples with grandpa
and, to this day, I can’t paint a love more human and real- with no fake promisses.