Snapshots With Words

Why do I so love winter?  The cold and desolation speak to me and without fail call me out of the house each year on a truly cold day.  I like the muffled sounds of the cold;  when only the brave venture out of doors and the birds don their plush winter layers.  Fog and chimney smoke and the white of my breath dancing all around are intoxicating,  and the air is so refreshing I take satisfying gulps.      My only companions around "Hilmteich" this morning are a couple of dogs in coats with their owners,  and one solitary student wearing shorts and leggings and walking fast in order to stay warm,  be on time for class at the university; or both. She chose a daring outfit for -6° C (21° F) at 7:30 in the morning. When I exited our building this morning to embark on my restless need to escape into nature, I walked right into the busy world of a school morning.  Children getting on and off of the tram and...

Living in a foreign country has its advantages and disadvantages.  One particularly fun aspect is hunting for foods that remind me of home.  Somehow they just taste that much sweeter for being so elusive.  Here in Graz we have bakeries everywhere, and all of the pastries offered are delicious.  Croissants, chocolate filled and whole wheat variations, Topfentasche which are filled with a fluffier version of cream cheese, and Nuss Schnecke which is the Austrian version of a cinnamon roll.  But we like what we like, and the beauty in the details of life are the scents and sounds and tastes that are linked to our favorite memories of our youth or certain places we've lived and people we have known. You might be wondering how I can write about pastries with all the unrest in the states with the upcoming elections.  I am doing my part to vote from abroad and live well one day at a time, because that is what we are all fighting for the chance to do; live our liv...

I sit in the candlelight on a mild summer evening, the sounds of neighbours mingling with the farther off noise of  sporadic traffic on the nighttime streets. The German conversation drifts in amidst laughter while the neighbor below is watching some type of African television show from his home. A slug near my elbow startled me, and I watched him crawl around the candle lantern and slowly and painstakingly off of the table. To think this all began because the cat Misty and I spotted a moth inside the apartment and this was my master plan to lure him back outside where he belongs.

I am sitting inside of our old fashioned Graz apartment, with high ceilings and windows that overlook the street where the Stra β enbahns, or street cars, pass by every few minutes.  If I am feeling poetic enough they sound like waves crashing on the sea shore.  I can imagine seagulls flying overhead and a soft blue heaven with delicate clouds accentuating the scenery composed of sand, rocks, and gentle bluffs that embrace the foaming sea.   Our Austrian apartment is on what Americans would call the second floor, but what to a German speaking European is the “Erste Stock,” or first floor.  My favorite room is the living room, where I am sitting now, with its high ceiling, tall windows, and an old wooden floor that is perfect for reflecting the softened light from the sun as it sneaks past the tops of the many storied buildings and comes in through our windows.  The structures are all built together so that they look like one and the same building, or gi...