Graffiti on a wall, Without a message or image? Hardly. It’s on the sidewalk, At the entrance of a primary school, In a small, quiet, sleepy village. Children imagining, Playing, Having fun, Perhaps dreaming, Of walking on rainbows, Before school begins again. Yet the colors are circular, Within life’s rectangular boundaries. One small triangle remains
A cold beer tastes good
Even on cool, rainy days.
Staring out the window with a glass in hand, …
There’s something special about the color green.
It appeals to parts of me I know well.
Some I can name, …
A heart-shaped leaf
On a wet summer’s day.
The raindrops resemble tears, …
I’d like to grow old like this.
Pleasant to the eye,
In good condition, …
There are always signs in life, the ones that show the right path to take. Sometimes they’re as clear as mud while at others, simply hard to understand. Every day has its signs. …
Nature, tranquility and traces of humanity existing side by side. That’s what we found this morning taking a small detour on our way to the village grocery store. It was a surprise to find no one playing. The grass was short, soft …
Sun-dried St. John’s-wort and soon to dry wild mint.
Both from the same land.
So different, …
Today was travel day. We drove from Northern Spain to central Switzerland. It was a blistering hot day, we had a full, heavy car and drove with the windows open all the way. Stopping often to wet our faces and hair felt good. We weren’t in a hurry. …
Which one are you?
Me, I’m that orangey red one,
That stands out, …
Couldn’t this picture portray,
An abstract image,
Of modern day life? …
