We’ve been in BC, Canada since June 1. Flying home via Toronto tomorrow. I’m joining you in the anarchist club. So sick of gov’ts and borders. Freedom means the freedom to disobey, the freedom to move, and the freedom to make and change social relationships. All of these freedoms are being curtailed.
Home! Yes! We found the philosopher’s stone and it’s contentment. A friend told me that travel is a re-discovery of home. We came back in lush spring, a green that I don’t think much of Spain experiences. After a day we had sightings of deer, fox, squirrel, raccoon, chipmunk, rabbit, 50 birds and so many trees and shrubs I still have not named. A new beginning. Environs appreciation.
Several times while stuck in the little castle town, I thought of you and Bob and how fortunate to be be poets trapped in another paradise. If I had your expressive training, pen and paper would have done me good. Customs would have confiscated a Divine Comedy in my carry on. Alas, I was dry, uninspired, and without paints!
Kept the sense of humor, though. Rose and I laughed and laughed and paid our last installment of life together insurance:)
Exactly as you say. There’s a freedom to just thinking and feeling it. For me that is all that’s necessary. No joining clubs and societies of changemakers. One day I hope to become an immovable rock of non-compliance. Maybe when I’m a hundred:) It’s the duress that I cannot accept. I push it on no bureaucracy and no bureaucracy should push it on me.
Safe travels back to summer paradise! The Great lake awaits!
We’ve been in BC, Canada since June 1. Flying home via Toronto tomorrow. I’m joining you in the anarchist club. So sick of gov’ts and borders. Freedom means the freedom to disobey, the freedom to move, and the freedom to make and change social relationships. All of these freedoms are being curtailed.
Despite your multifarious and warranted disillusionments, dearest Ward of Rose, you are blessed to know what it means to be home.
I'm glad you and Rose are both safe and healthy, if not a bit worse for the wear.
Home! Yes! We found the philosopher’s stone and it’s contentment. A friend told me that travel is a re-discovery of home. We came back in lush spring, a green that I don’t think much of Spain experiences. After a day we had sightings of deer, fox, squirrel, raccoon, chipmunk, rabbit, 50 birds and so many trees and shrubs I still have not named. A new beginning. Environs appreciation.
Several times while stuck in the little castle town, I thought of you and Bob and how fortunate to be be poets trapped in another paradise. If I had your expressive training, pen and paper would have done me good. Customs would have confiscated a Divine Comedy in my carry on. Alas, I was dry, uninspired, and without paints!
Kept the sense of humor, though. Rose and I laughed and laughed and paid our last installment of life together insurance:)
Thank you Stephanie!
Exactly as you say. There’s a freedom to just thinking and feeling it. For me that is all that’s necessary. No joining clubs and societies of changemakers. One day I hope to become an immovable rock of non-compliance. Maybe when I’m a hundred:) It’s the duress that I cannot accept. I push it on no bureaucracy and no bureaucracy should push it on me.
Safe travels back to summer paradise! The Great lake awaits!