I woke up in the morning with the words "Time for a prayer" softly chanting in my head.
And I did.
And I asked for a "All will be well " sign at the end.
Two herons showed themselves to me in different spots
In the waters of Alzette
During my morning walk.
And I took it as a sign that
All will be well.
I just love this book "Favolosi Intrecci di Seta" and cannot help playing with translations.
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Il vecchio, il sogno e la farfalla.
Tanto tempo fa, un vecchio uomo si addormentò sotto una quercia e cominciò a sognare. Sognò di essere diventato una farfalla, libera e leggera, che volava e andava a posarsi su un fiore.Li, tra i petali, la farfalla si addormentava e cominciava a sognare.La farfalla sognava di essere diventata un vecchio uomo che dormiva sotto una quercia.
Fu cosi che, quando if vecchio uomo riaprì gli occhi, non sapeva piì se era un uomo che aveva sognato di essere una farfalla, oppure una farfalla che stava sognando di essere un uomo.
An old man, a dream and a butterfly.
Once upon a time a weary traveler stopped to rest under an oak tree and fell asleep. He dreamt that he turned into a butterfly. Light and free the butterfly floated through the air until it settled on a flower to rest. There between the petals it fell asleep. The butterfly dreamt that it became an old man sleeping under an oak tree.
When the old man opened his eyes he didn't know anymore if he was a man dreaming of being a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming of being a man.
Сон, старик и бабочка.
Однажды усталый странник заснул под тенистым дубом. Емн приснилось, что он превратился в бабочку. Легкая и беззаботная она порхала в воздухе и устав, присела на цветок. Там, среди лепестков, она заснула и ей приснилось, что она усталый странник, спящий под тенистым дубом.
Вот так и получилось, что когда наш путник открыл глаза, он больше не знал, был ли он человек, которому приснилось, что он бабочка, или же бабочка, которой снилось, что она человек.
Source: "Favolosi Intrecci di Seta, Fiabe dall'Estremo Oriente" by Luigi Dal Cin
Illustrations: Piet Grobler
Here is something that puzzles me. Why there are so many smokers in Luxembourg?
It is one of the richest countries in the world, which one would think is associated with better education, medical system, overall sense of well-being, heightened sense of civility and mutual respect. As a result it should lead to a better understanding of what smoking does to the body and how it affects others, no?
On the contrary, Luxembourg turns out to be the first place in more then a decade of our travels where I feel bothered by the second-hand smoke. (And, I did smoke in my twenties; my mother used to smoke; my sister still smokes.) Here people smoke while walking, while talking, while waiting for a bus, while sitting at the outside tables of restaurants and cafes, and while standing on their balconies. At times a person enters a bus or passes you on the street, and it is impossible not to smell embedded smoke on his/her clothes.
Were there fewer smokers in Italy? I don't think so. Why then did smoking become so much more obvious for me here? Musing on that, I realized that there seems to be a cultural difference in place. In Italy smoking was mostly done as finishing touch after of a cup of coffee or a meal, often accompanied by social interactions. It was a ritual of sort, an active act of pleasure.
Here it seems to be more of a habitual and/or anti-stress activity. Which brings back a question: why is it happening in one of the richest countries?
There are some days, often in the early autumn or spring, that contain magic within. The days when the beauty of the surroundings take the breath away: the light creates a glow in the faces of passerby, in the crowns of the trees, in the water of Alzette. A walk slows down to a stroll, the breath elongates, and the joy enters the heart. Divinity of the world shows itself and the only appropriate response is a complete surrender.
A companion piece to "Listening to the News..."
During this rainy morning "I spy with my little eye"...so far
Like many people I dislike when my photos are taken - as soon as a camera points at me, I tensed up and just want it to be over. Sometimes though at home I play around with self portraits, mainly when I want to see how certain item of clothing looks on me.
During those moments - I tend to simply have fun. In some instances happy accidents come into play and the results inspire me to play around with the photos. Laying on my yoga mat I tried to capture the reflections of the early morning sun above me. Without turning the camera around apparently!
The result was an accidental but interesting self portrait. Below are the fruits of my early morning creativity.. Same photo, two frames - different feel.
"If I were the Queen of Spades."
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The weather forecast promises high + 31 C and even at nine in the morning the sun is blazingly hot. It is certainly better than last weekend when the temperature hovered between + 34 C and + 36 C.
Italians say that it isn't normal for June, it is usually at the end of July when it is getting so hot. While listening to the complains about weather , "C'è troppo caldo/ Fa caldo, si soffoca" - "Too hot/So hot, it's hard to breath" - I discovered two wonderful expressions:
"C'è un caldo da morire" - Loosely, "I can die from such heat"
And, the most magnificent, "Il Solleone".
The word describes the scorching sun of the hottest time of the year. "I giorni del Solleone sono arrivati presto quest'anno./The hottest (the days of the Lion Sun) days came early this summer." It is one of the portmanteau words which combine two or more roots together, in this case Sole + Leone = Solleone/ Sun + Lion = Lion Sun
Behold... "Il Solleone"
