A river is always going somewhere: where? Who knows… would the river itself want to know?
The fine morning we had today (by now, yesterday) allowed me to go to my destination using a rather roundabout way though it reintroduced me to the River Yare. It was quite nice, and reminded me of past July’s (not the only thing today to remind of those: indeed, there were moments during the evening which did quite the same).
Don’t have much more to add except for a hope of updating more often and with more content. Until that time, a song and a picture. 🙂
Autumn is in full bloom. Wait. Autumn in full bloom ? A contradiction… Oh well, autumn is at its best right now : no rain, no extreme warmth, this colder weather with clear skies and leafless trees. At night, the stars shine so very bright. “The wandering moon gleams under the clouds.”
The season looks good here; even better is the look of streets (the Avenues) compared to what they were. It truly is a beautiful place.
I saw a video of Tallinn a number of days ago, again in the full colours of autumn. It seems to me that any city which looks good in the summer or winter, shall also look wonderful in autumn.
I think I’ve once mentioned here my idea that to truly know any place a person needs to have seen it at all times; and that is most certainly true of Norwich for me. It is a lovely city and yet it manages to escape resembling anything else : it is not a Tallinn or Stockholm, or Pärnu or Barcelona. It is Norwich, no matter what.
Same is not true of Glasgow, and consequently not of Edinburgh either. Glasgow was Helsinki remade, especially the more central areas of it. Edinburgh. If Glasgow was Helsinki, then Edinburgh was Stockholm. A bit more regal and grand, but still in the same class.
The walk through the local park made me confront something that I do not enjoy this early into August : namely, the wind was cold. It did not remind me of summer, or of spring, or of the Sun, but instead of what should not be : winter. Not that the winds were that cold — just the impression they left were of the shortening of days and long weekends inside while the elements do their best against the house.
I would assume that this image was supported by the sight of leaves falling. Not many of them yet, fortunately, but a large enough number to make me think, “This is not the time!” What the gods of weather seem to have missed is that we could do well with another two or so months of warm weather (along with a few short showers) so that at least the short moments outside would be more enjoyable than the moment you sit on the coach and your eyes catch the words on BBC News of another riot in London or Manchester or any other city.
And yet, the walk reminded me of other places. The picture I saw before my eyes could have been changed with the road leading up to a Balto-German mansion and the real change would have been small — true, once mind strayed from the path ahead and looked to the sides, that would have been different indeed… but while eyes were to stay fixed on the destination, the differences at the edges of the field of view would be blurred. I’ve tried to add a picture (taken with my faithful LG) to this post to at least show in a few thoughts what was there to be seen (though a warning would be in order so that the pictures my LG takes are rather sub-par in most ways compared to most other wonders of technology).
Now, it would seem that the picture has been added and everything works (after Opera crashed once, but never mind that since WordPress’s auto-save seems reliable enough).
On a more interesting note, this picture shows what I tried to put into words before — and it makes me wonder how bleak it will be in five months time (I guess I’ll see then!). But, a happier note in my mind says that six months hence it will be a wondrous sight again, and so forth and forth! One replaced by the other : a true cycle of life and… desolation (though a Desolation of less beautiful kind than the one by Cole)!
The days seem to pass by in a hurry I’ve seldom met before, and yet the accomplishments made in them do increase. Not only have I managed to read a few interesting books but I’ve also got up to date (pretty much) on the news, stopped waiting with responding to letters (Royal Mail should love me), and other *important* stuff. *sigh*
So, what seems most interesting is that based on the few last days, the earlier I go to bed the later I wish to walk up and vice versa. Trying to fall asleep at 2 AM might sound foolish if you need to be up by 9 AM, but there’s less problem with that than a longer program. The psychology of sleep is therefore rather interesting — especially given that my rather vivid dreams lately seem quite related to the time of falling asleep and such (or there is another tendency that I’ve yet to notice).
I also managed to rediscover the actual pleasure of being dead-tired. Yes, possibly not the most useful of things but after long walks, other stuff to do, interaction with people, trying to think and keep organized, some of the late days have been quite hectic, and the moment of rest has come as a sort of salvation — most interesting this, for I do not easily remember the previous time that I thought similar thoughts.
Oh, and Sol has come to Norwich !
Oh, I wish this could be a common sight in the future. To wake up and see a clear-cast sky and birds flying; to listen to music that calms the spirit. It is such a perfect continuation from the yesterday I knew and the week before that.
Yesterday, I went for a walk. It was far colder than March should be (though it might be something similar than last march) but the Moon illuminated everything. Again a clear sky and a full moon, and the cold weather meant that there was a fog on the lake and the river. I kind of remember a similar day from years ago but then the grounds were covered in white snow and the trees were different. And yet, the Moon’s light was enough to see clearly what was going on — almost as bright as a day, I could say.
Likewise, I went for a first 3.2 km run yesterday. Might have been a bad idea, but I should at least be able to do it in a reasonable time. Yesterday, it was a bit short from reasonable…
As a less reasonable sidenote, it is worth to mention that I managed to intertwine two languages into one sentence so that no one understood what I was going on about ("Shall I go and fill up these ämber’s?"). 😛
Oh well, back to this wonderful morning. For it is wonderful.
And to yesterday…
The night deepends
and moonlight spreads
a coolness to the edges
of the pond, with fronds on
its surface and a frog’s voice.
To that person
wanting recall of events past
in this world below:
"Why not ask the moon above?"
may be the most fit response.
Both by Saigyo.
Beautiful weather for the 24th of February. It seems like summer. And Estonia is frozen. It seems fitting. It might even be that any other way would be wrong. I cannot be sure.
I am reminded of the summers when I read outside at "home". There is no photograph of that… yet, the image is clear in my mind.
Hmmh. I say, a photograph… I hear, しゃしん…
I have the distinct feeling that this winter that I am presently seeing outside of my window shall be my last one… for a very long time. And I cannot say that I regret these decisions — they are all for the better. For indeed, I dare say that this will not be my last winter at all, for I have planned to experience another one, though in another time, in another place.
But… what if the winter shall follow me? What if it will change everything, the fact that I will not see it, feel it? It would be a cruel game by winter to do so, even though I suppose nature has the right to be cruel.
These questions are all very interesting, but I should rather look at it from another side: Do I want this to be the last winter (for the sake of simplicity, I will not refer to that one in the distant future as one for now), or do I want winter to follow me? For, even though there are many things to be said about winter, one must add that it is beautiful, it adds perspective to summer. How would I ever be able to fully rejoice in the pleasures of summer without once feeling the cold winds of winter?
I read yesterday that Mongolia had had minus 50 degrees (Celsius), and its vast grasslands covered in meters-thick snow. I wonder what an experience it would be to see a season similar in its depth. I cannot possibly imagine. Not yet. But someday, I will. Or, so at least I hope.