That song...

...has been rolling around in my head all day long. Oh well... at least it's a beautiful song.
This the one:

The falling leaves drift by my window
The autumn leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sunburned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
But I miss you most of all, my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall

Vacation Diary III

That's better. It's getting warmer already. The sea is still cold, though. Too cold. But I can walk around in T-shirt. But damn, who called in those clouds again?

Vacation Diary II

The sun has shown up, the rascal. But it keeps playing hide-and-seek. It's not so cold anymore. But there's still the wind. The chilly northerly, cutting to the bone. Reminds me all too well of the adventure from 25 odd years ago, of those endless hours spent in snowdrifts, of the wind, of the cold...

The sea I've been looking forward to swimming in is cold. How can I enjoy swimming in sub 20C? No way, that's how.

So I go, I take a walk uphill (everything is uphill from the sea level). The wind beats against the shrubbery, against the rocks, against my body. The climb is worth the effort, though. Distant islands appear right there, within reach, among the shadows of passing clouds.

The hike relaxes me a bit. I might still enjoy my stay here.

Vacation Diary I

It's cold. The air is cold. The rain is cold. The sea is cold. The town is cold. I HATE cold.

I hate this town. I hate its false air of friendliness. I hate its familiarity, the fact that i know almost every nook and cranny.

Why do I come here, then? I don't know. I don't even know why the place unnerves me. It has the sea which I love. It has the gulls and the swifts and the swallows. It has beautiful views. It has interesting fauna and flora. It has beautiful sea. And, most of all, my significant other loves the place. Compromises, compromises... choice.

But then again, I'll be fine. I'll be fine as soon as the air warms up, the sea warms up, the sun shines through...

almost there

rain
patters incessantly
on the city streets
distant mountain-tops
covered with snow
are shrouded in mist
and yet
on this cold september day
my thoughts meander
along surf-washed
pebbled beaches
on the wings of a seagull they pass
purple depths beneath
precipitous cliffs
they follow the moonlight
towards distant shores
count the seconds between
flashes from the lighthouse
get caught in the sails
of a passing boat
before they get stranded
on the rocks of reality

Graffiti

I have mixed feelings about graffiti. Some are no more than expressions of vented spleen or a way of marking the territory. Obscenities, threats or signs meaningful only for the members of the gang...

But there are others, clearly created by talented rascals, some of them true works of art. The City of Ljubljana has even sponsored a project in which a team of 'artists' would decorate with graffiti art an otherwise desolate underpass.

The photo is not of their work, though. I just came across this combination of urban and natural and found it interesting.

Confession

I have a confession to make.

I am addicted to reading. Have been all my life.

Once I get hold of a book - or any text for that matter - that takes my fancy (and there aren't few), I can't quit reading until I'm finished. Or until I fall unconscious, whichever comes first. All my bodily needs fall second to the urge to finish the text. I cease to exist to the outer world.

Only when common sense, what little there is left, tells me there is no way I could finish it within reasonable time (until my next unavoidable obligation, that is), am I willing to grudgingly let go but return to it as soon as circumstances allow.

I should be sleeping right now, as the matter of fact. And yet I'm still awake wondering whether I should go looking for that smidgeon of common sense that is supposed to be hiding somewhere within my head or continue with the project I can't for the life of me finish in reasonable time.