Amidst the trees

I've been hanging out in parks at lunch the last few weeks, lolling about, feet in the grass, nose in a book, or a German magazine. It's a short reprieve from the daily grind of patient care, which is generally satisfying, though occasionally muscle-tightening.

 

Life really is a walk in the park. A park with trees, where you can't really see what's coming, good or bad. This much I know. About the time I start to think that it's stable and perhaps predictable, the path changes again, or disappears. It's really the best analogy. I could say that it bothers me, but it doesn't. I rather like the unknown, the excitement of discovery, and opening and closing doors.

 

This afternoon Amber and I are going swimming (she's a former swimmer), and the weather, grey and raining, definitely not a walk in the park, but it's a swim in the pool. We were going to get wet anyway. I could complain or just do it. Same as life.

 

 

Sunday Thought

"This is how the entire course of a life can be changed- by doing nothing."
- Ian McEwan, On Chesil Beach

Thinking about going blue, aqua blue!

With color swap and color accent functions, anything is possible! :)

Loving the the camera...

Czech Monastery

After the great canoe adventure, I meandered home along small Czech roads, the two hour drive expanded to six. I didn't mind. I was seeing things.

One stop was this Czech church and monastery which was being restored. From the road, I'd been attracted by the crumbling siding.

A cafe in Plzen where I stopped on the way home.

Evening one week later- finally caught up on my sleep

The army party service (not their real name) came into 700 Pink (the musician) tickets, two available per ID card holder. So four of us (Amber, her husband and a friend of mine) piled into the car and drove into Nuremberg for a night of happy fun.

The way in was a bit slow, as we got caught up in a massive traffic jam for at least an hour on the autobahn before being shuffled into the parking lot, which was in the center of a field where Hitler had rallied a youth Nazi group. Amber pointed out the spot from which he’d spoken. I imagined him standing there. There’s no escaping history here.

The concert started with a large crane holding a box with four attached balloons, which was held up over the crowd. A big bang, and Pink emerged and dropped to the earth like a slutty angel.

Wild costumes, smoke machines, great back-up, and deep, strong voices filled the night air. Truly pure entertainment. I loved it. But I was thinking about the environmental effects of concerts, whether they were justified to continue, and the value of this sort of entertainment. (I was the kid who pondered fires during basketball championship games, after all.) I decided we need to enjoy life, and concerts are communal gatherings, shared happiness, and a good thing.

So I drank my beer and swayed along, delighting in the confirmation that I still love going out, and appear to have no set endpoint on how late I can stay. (I keep worrying that I’m going to wake up one day all stodgy and dull. What a relief that I am not.)

It was an excellent concert- a night of laughter and no worries. Except the part at the end where she fell off stage and couldn’t sing her last song. But that’s life. Even rock stars fall down. The whole thing, very rejuvenating.

Amber and her husband, Patrick, good Montana folks.


She's at the bottom. I was a little slow.