Confession of a Summer Agnostic #fivewords

Weekly Writing Prompt #159

herbst-regen-9f928b49-9b03-4f00-945d-b50377f60402

 

I confess I have never been a sun worshipper. Red meat on a dry rack, sorry, beach, does not inspire me. Perhaps is it a question of name? Summer, Sommer, sommaire, echoes of summary… Execution? I long for Autumn, for the fresh smell of wet ground, for the scent of pine trees, at last drinking the dawn dew. I love the way the temperature drops at night… sweet dreams.

I long for the rain, for the gift of rain, falling on the parched earth, for the sound of rain drops on the lake. Solace.

Photo: Herbst Regen, source

Afrikanische Straße

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I leave the lutheran bells ringing clear, behind, the sky a dull lead blanket, but soon I see the green shoots: Nature, the knowing lover, is holding them back, in this chilled Sunday morning, as if to moderate our impatience. She knows how to prolong the foreplay, make us wait, nurse our lust, dream of future ecstasies.

The park is silent, even the birds talk in polite, muted voices. A few runners, the dog walkers, I must be the only tramp. The lake lies still, its waters not yet enticing: the beach is deserted, but for a couple of philosophical ducks. An old crucifix stands, alone, reflecting on a better, perhaps even, glorious past. Yesterday’s winds have covered the ground with small, brittle branches, it may rain soon.

The cool bier goes down so well, a not-quite-Spring treat, solitary pleasure. Some youths walk past, so quiet, survivors of some late Saturday’s party. I take my bulk further north, to the limit of the park; on the other side of the motorway lies the airport. The grumble of sparse traffic can be heard, faintly. The sport grounds are busy, with the serious shouts of enthusiastic soccer players. More dogs are entertaining their mistresses, bored, probably wondering about the human mind . The rain has started its cool morning exercise.

There are two small ponds before the street: I am back in Africa now. I follow Afrikanische for a short while, turn left on Transvaal: where else could I walk in a few minutes across thousands of miles? When I cross over Togo, the pavement is shiny with rain. Soon I find Kameruner: I am home. Girls are walking back to their nests, carrying bread.

Back to my space, I carefully recycle the beer bottle. Bless this city, and its inhabitants.

Image: Samuel Araya, via aeszaaesza.tumblr.com

Trinken #AtoZAprilChallenge

bacchus

It is a threat, and a pleasure, perhaps the most pernicious risk to mankind since the Black Death… Yet, how could we give up those marvels of nature, human skills and poetic evocations? Just think: from the Old World to the New, Pino Grigio, Montbasillac, Saint-Emilion, Burgundy, Champagne, the marvellous Australians, the North-Californians, the Cahors, the sunshine from South-Africa, the smiling Italians, the harsh Spanish, without forgetting the gold and diamonds of South America… the inexhaustible riches of the grapes! And what is cooler than a glass of iced Grappa after a Mediterranean meal?

And how to drink with moderation? Perhaps it is a matter of location, of space, of atmosphere? The geometries of drinking are as varied as the colours of the rainbow.

Think: drinking alone, drinking at two, with many? At home, at the dinner table, in the lounge, in the bar? Champagne at breakfast, Pinot Noir at seduction time? And who seduces whom? The possibilities are infinite…

The Public Library of South Australia has a beautiful and well researched site on the subject: “Wine Literature of the World”… But what about writers and drinking? No shortage of amusing and frightening examples here, from Poe’s “What illness can be compared to alcohol?” to Hemingway’s “Paris was a moving Feast”, and many who sought inspiration, or absolution, in the bottle.

Yet at least one of the great religions of the world, Islam, bans the consumption of alcohol. And for good reasons: the series of disasters caused by alcohol abuse is endless, from horrific drink and drive dramas to domestic violence and costs to society… But is prohibition conceivable today?

Then there is the variety of beverages, the beers of Germany and Czech Land, Belgium, India, Italy, Alsace… and of course the grapes and grain alcohols: from the sumptuous Cognac and Armagnac to the wonders of Scotland, the sharp Schnapps and Vodkas, without forgetting Grappa and the Kentucky treasures.

And so, what of this blogger then? Smiling all the way to the cellar: learning to drink – with reason if not moderation – takes time and… love: a shared pleasure, and, yes, part of the geometry of living.

Original post

Image source

#DailyPrompt: Opening lines

Inspired by Take my Hunger, Inkubus Sukkubus

Max Ernst ~ “Euklides”, 1945Your love is crashing through my veins,

I do not know where, when it will stop,

I don’t want it to stop – I seek the forever,

And you, I know, you seek this blood,

Still human, for a few more days,

Perhaps… And then I will be like you:

A deathless monster.

Image: Max Ernst ~ “Euklides”, 1945

Full lyrics of Take my Hunger (© Inkubus Sukkubus):

Your love is crashing through my veins
Your heat has far eclipsed the day
Let nought but hunger take the pain
We’ve lived as those who’ve lived for fame

Take my hunger
Break my anger
Steal all madness
Slake my thirst

All those who would condemn our love
Know not the beauty in your sun
We’ll live for that which must be done
Release the bird to soar above

Read more: Inkubus Sukkubus – Take My Hunger Lyrics | MetroLyrics

#AtoZChallenge: April 20, 2013 ~ Reims (and the Smiling Angel)

Reims

L'Ange au Sourire The Remi, a tribe of the Gauls, founded you as their capital a century BC.  By 260 AD you were Christian.  In your cathedral, Notre-Dame de Reims, many Kings of France were crowned.  In 496 Clovis was baptised on your altar. There stood Joan of Arc, at the side of Charles VII when he was consecrated in 1429, Joan who was later burnt at the stake in Rouen, and became Saint Joan.   In the first World War – that is the first European civil war of the 20th century, until intervention by North America saved Britain and France from likely defeat – the Reich’s artillery nearly destroyed you.  In my students days there, one could hardly see your church through the scaffoldings.  There on the main portal is the archangel who, one evening, told me that angels were holly women with wings.  L’Ange au Sourire maybe the most seductive symbol of the Christian Medieval age in the whole of Europe…

And, let’s not forget, you are the capital of that beautiful province of Champagne where they make the wine of the same name…

Clovis on French Wikipedia

L’Ange de Reims at http://remue.net/bulletin/TB040815.htm

#Geometries: Trinken

 It is a threat, and a pleasure, perhaps the most pernicious risk to mankind since the Black Death… Yet, how could we give up those marvels of nature, human skills and poetic evocations? Just think: from the Old World to the New, Pino Grigio, Montbasillac, Saint-Emilion, Burgundy, Champagne, the marvellous Australians, the North-Californians, the Cahors, the sunshine from South-Africa, the smiling Italians, the harsh Spanish, without forgetting the gold and diamonds of South America… the inexhaustible riches of the grapes! And what is cooler than a glass of iced Grappa after a Mediterranean meal?

And how to drink with moderation? Perhaps it is a matter of location, of space, of atmosphere? The geometries of drinking are as varied as the colours of the rainbow.

Think: drinking alone, drinking at two, with many? At home, at the dinner table, in the lounge, in the bar? Champagne at breakfast, Pinot Noir at seduction time? And who seduces whom? The possibilities are infinite…

The Public Library of South Australia has a beautiful and well researched site on the subject: “Wine Literature of the World”… But what about writers and drinking? No shortage of amusing and frightening examples here, from Poe’s “What illness can be compared to alcohol?” to Hemingway’s “Paris was a moving Feast”, and many who sought inspiration, or absolution, in the bottle.

Yet at least one of the great religions of the world, Islam, bans the consumption of alcohol. And for good reasons: the series of disasters caused by alcohol abuse is endless, from horrific drink and drive dramas to domestic violence and costs to society… But is prohibition conceivable today?

Then there is the variety of beverages, the beers of Germany and Czech Land, Belgium, India, Italy, Alsace… and of course the grapes and grain alcohols: from the sumptuous Cognac and Armagnac to the wonders of Scotland, the sharp Schnapps and Vodkas, without forgetting Grappa and the Kentucky treasures.

And so, what of this blogger then? Smiling all the way to the cellar: learning to drink – with reason if not moderation – takes time and… love: a shared pleasure, and, yes, part of the geometry of living.