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...

While traveling by train from Stuttgart, Germany, to Graz, Austria, my husband and I who have been living in Austria for nearly eight months had the privilege of overhearing a fellow American. We were sitting across the isle from a lovely couple who looked like newlyweds. The pair spoke to one another in German as well as a middle-eastern sounding language, and they used English to order coffee and to politely ask if we could take their picture. Here in Europe one has the privilege of intermingling with people who have learned to dedicate time becoming familiar with other cultures and languages. Stuttgart Marktplatz While we enjoyed a beautiful view out of our picture window of the German and Austrian landscapes, our serenity was interrupted momentarily when we heard a man's voice utter in a southern American accent the words, "dumb ass." It was not long before we had confirmation that he was a traveler with little interest in learning about new cultures, when he c...

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...