It snowed

It snowed on Tuesday. A tiny bit. Almost not worth mentioning. Tiny flakes; none of them actually stayed on the ground. For two blissful hours, the lovely white drifted down from the gray-blue sky, tossed about by the strong winds, and died before it hit the pavement, yes, but lifted my spirits nevertheless.
I watched “Lawless”, which was much better than I had anticipated. To give you an idea: a bond between three brothers, Virginia during prohibition, bootlegging, guns, violence. Also, Tom Brady. It sounds too easy, too predictable, and yet it’s fast-paced with a few unexpected turns and I would absolutely watch it a second time.

I’m going home tomorrow. I plan on spending as much time with my family as I can this Christmas season, making the most of my being unemployed. This means a lot of traveling back and forth by train and I just hope that the entire network of German railway won’t just break down as it tends to do as soon as it gets colder outside.

The end of November and NaBloPoMo has killed any inspiration for blogging I may have had (which is the opposite of what I had hoped would happen) so I don’t know when I’ll come back and write here. Expect photo posts, rather than words. And send me snow, if you’re lucky enough to have any.

Advertisements

November is for blogging

Hi there. I haven’t been here in a while because I’m out of stories to tell and out of photos to share, and there are too many lovely distractions on the internet to want to try harder. But I’ve been blogging on and off since 2007 and it’d be a shame to just stop and disappear from this community of bloggers I’ve come to love and appreciate so much. I’m unemployed right now (so I do have time to blog!) and live on a minimal budget, so I hang out at home a lot – and that doesn’t make for great blogging.

Luckily, there’s NaBloPoMo. The rules of National BloPosting Month are simply to publish a blog post every day in November, and the people of NaBloPoMo have thoughtfully come up with some writing prompts for those among us who might need it. So on some days (well, most, probably) I’ll get my inspiration from there; on others I’ll post whatever I can think of. And hopefully, by the end of the month I’ll have rekindled my blogging flame, so to speak?

I’d love for you to follow along and tell others to come check out my little corner of the web as well! I updated the About page today so if you’re new here, that might be a good place to start for a little taste of who I am…

I’m typing this on my balcony. It’s almost dark out. I can’t see the sunset from here but I can tell by the dark blue of the cloudless sky that it’s just slipped past the horizon. I had to wrap myself in a cozy cardigan because even though it is August, this summer just hasn’t been kind: it was 8°C (46F) last night. It is chilly and dark out here but I can’t seem to move.

I put my book aside only moments ago; I read until my eyes couldn’t find the letters on the darkened pages anymore. There are no bugs or mosquitoes here, even by the light of my laptop screen; an unexpected convenience of city life.

I hear crickets and wind rustling in the trees, but mostly traffic noises – from the two big national highways and the railroad line that, together, form an almost perfect triangle around where I live. And yet, it’s a peaceful Saturday night. To me, now, right here, it is a quiet night. The traffic noises are so much part of this place, I forget what real quiet is; how deadly silent a night out in the country can be.

I hear the planes. I can see them, too. The airport is but 12 minutes away by car. When they cross the sky above my home, they are already flying low, approaching for landing, zeroing in on the runway lights. They’re mostly commercial planes – Germanwings, easyJet, AirBerlin – transporting people around Germany, Europe and Northern Africa. Sometimes I spot cargo planes; their body and wings look different, FedEx is printed on the side in giant letters. After sunset I follow their blinking lights across the infinite indigo; bright white in front and back, a red one on each side. I can see the planes long before I hear them but it’s the sound of the engines, so distinct and powerful, that gets me every time. I love living so close to an airport more than I can say. Each plane sparks my imagination and my passion for travel.

The book about Afghanistan is really good, by the way. It has, among other things, made me want to write again, and write better.