Some Foolishness on Friday

It is the old postman's last day at work before retirement. So when he goes about his ultimate round, his soon to be former clients await him with presents.

When he rings at the last house in the street, a voluptuous blonde opens the door and invites him in. He is treated to the best sex of his life. Afterwards the woman makes him a refreshment and a cup of coffee. Under the cup of coffee he finds 20 euros. Puzzled, he asks the woman what that is all about.

"You know, this morning I asked my husband what I should give you as a farewell present. 'Fuck him,' he said, 'give him a few euros.' The food was my idea, though."

Freedom

It was raining when she came out of the building. She rummaged through her bag for the folding umbrella she knew was there but then, on a whim, changed her mind and stepped out, her face open to the raindrops. Feeling the rain on her face, her shoulders, her breasts, was refreshing after days of heat that lingered over the scorched land. She took off her sandals and set off running barefoot down the street, not minding the strange looks from passers-by.

She ran, raindrops beating against her slender body, blood pumping through her veins; she ran, feeling the freedom she had craved for so many years. She only stopped to catch her breath, rain dripping from the curls of her short-cut hair onto her already soaked top and pleated skirt.

She felt the sensation of silk pressing tight against her skin, accentuating the curves of her body, wrapping around her thighs, and all of the sudden she burst out laughing.

She knew she would never have to enter that building again.

Waiting

What is it about waiting that never leaves us at ease?

Waiting for the rain, waiting for the sun, waiting for the seasons to change...

The irritation of waiting in lines for goods or service...

The anxiety and discomfort of waiting for an appointment with a doctor or dentist...

The excitement and expectation of waiting for an object of one's desire – a house/flat, a car, a technical toy...

The plethora of emotions when waiting for an email, a phone call, a meeting from/with a friend, a lover, a partner...

And finally relief when waiting comes to an end, no matter the outcome...

We spend so much time and energy waiting that we forget how to live in the meantime.

Open Air Exhibition

It all started two years ago when the photo exhibition Earth From The Air by the famous photographer Yann Arthus-Bertrand took place in Tivoli park. The public response was enthusiastic and the photographs were on display most of the summer.

A young slovenian photographer set up an exhibition of the lansacape photographs from his world travels last year and again the response was very good.

This year's exhibition focuses on one of Slovenia's peculiarities: the Cerknica periodic lake and all its metamorphoses throughout the year.

Seeing that exibition makes me want to visit the place. It's quite peculiar that it is just a good half-hour drive from where I live and yet I have only visited it for sporting purposes when there's no time for sightseeing. I just might change that soon.

Just a few shots...

Nothing special really, I've taken better ones before.

But... we are only getting to know each other and I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Leaves

Leaves are a bit like humans, don't you think? Some die before they even emerge from the buds, others are devoured by parasites or attacked by diseases before they can fully develop. Some are violently shredded and torn away from the tree by passing storms. Some age quickly, change colour and fall off before their time. Most grow up and work for common good, producing sugar and oxygen from carbon dioxide, until they are no longer useful, after which they are discharged and slowly wither until they fall. A few, though, refuse to let go when their time comes, although in the end they all die and rot, thus providing for the generations to follow. Yes, humans are much like leaves...

Old Willow

A tree, standing in the park like many others. It must have seen many winters, witnessed many spring romances, provided shade on many hot summer days, shed its leaves many times in autumn.

It still stands proudly beside a path, its foliage as lush and green as ever. But this summer a huge yellow fungus has blossomed on its trunk, a sure sign of the tree's ill health. Have the living conditions changed? Is global warming beginning to take its toll? Or is the age getting the better of it? How many more winters can it survive?

The fungus looks rather spectacular, though, doesn't it? I wonder how many passers-by ever notice it... most don't even notice the tree, I reckon.