A morning of death
Last night some travelers were talking about a man falling off a cliff. I'd been contemplating how weird it is that people who are a live talk about those who are dead. It just all seems very odd to me. (the larger concept of alive souls discussing dead ones). Like a passing down of a tradition, which shouldn't ought to be passed. When I woke up, it had been snowing and raining for three days now. Several times durante the night, the rain awoke me. Non Stop. I figured out why. A man of the village died the other day, was helicoptered out. He was 43 and had three kids. Petra is really shooken up about it. That brings Gimmelwald down to 85. I can't take being in Europe having any more deaths. Right before Petra told me this news, one of the h.s. trip leaders was telling me how her husband had died, and she went to take a river trip on the grand canyon-and looked up at the moon from slot canyons, and how it gave her inner peace. Right as she was saying this, the lyrics from the title of the post came on the stereo. The last woman who told me about riding on the canyon last week, told me about two newlyweds who had taken a honeymoon trip and had drowned in the Colorado River. And this woman said that the fact that I saw an eagle right before I got to Shilthorn was bad luck. No, I don't believe bad things are lucky.
Hello to everyone I know that is still alive: Hello alive people! Let's experience each other! There is never enough time!
.:.:.
The baby the mountains and fog made is named Snow. She's beautiful, and coats the entire half of all the creature of truth. You know you're cold when you are using the mac laptop for warmth.
.:.:.
After heaving about 30 bags of trash up to the trash man on his big truck, he says
"bye bye trash lady"
hilarious
.:.:.
snow
SSSSSSSSSSSSNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! SNOW!
snow
SNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (For those of you that know me, you'll understand that my life started today).
.:.:.
Wow. Being in the snow starts to bring back all sorts of other Swiss memories from before. Every DETAIL in the mountain is highlighted. Man, just when I thought the mountain couldn't get any more beautiful.
it did.
It is like winter, in July. Why do I get everything?!
.:.:.
I'm getting so used to cable cars in the alps as a means of transportation. It's becoming second nature. When we ride from city to city, we act like we can take it all in
we pretend we can handle it
with wows
and picture snaps
and go on with our lives
it's all pride
that keeps us from doing anything but falling on our
knees
saying
I can't go on
unless I become that mountain.
And then we want to do the meanest thing
we want to take part of it with us
the least loving wish.
I've been thinking of tatooing it on my body.
As if the mountain would ever want to go anywhere else. Maybe.
Maybe it would like to move and turn it's neck. But no, it is too wise to want.
.:.:.
In the pool room
there is a blue guitar and
a red one
the blue guitar is missing
the only one
the red one
has.
Part of this is fiction
can you figure out which part?
.:.:.
and he said
that a soul could enter a body at any time
but I don't believe that
why would a soul ever sleep?
and why didn't his ever enter?
but all of a sudden i felt very, very, present.
like cedar and 17.
.:.:.
Things we humans ponder.
*If anyone can see our bubble
*If our bubble can see anything
*the things we are not
*when to let go
*how to deal with who you are, is hated.
*how we are better off alive when we have made really big mistakes.
.:.:.
This trip has been so dual sided. I'll be walking through the meadow, swiss cow bells on one side and musical theatre blaring out of my left ear in the other. With staring at the mountain with the front of my brain, and hearing the jazz piano with the back. I am in Switzerland and America and I wonder what theatre will be like when I can finally give it the same concentration I am giving the rock face in the bernese oberland.
.:.:.
never take your safety for granted
.:.:.
the saddest thing was when my grandma wrote
enjoy your month
...
...
month!?
(gulp)
.:.:.
I saw a choir of trees next to a waterfall. You could see that the conductor waterfall was compelling, always moving around the stage and the tree singers had to stand still. There was one tree, that quite obviously had fallen in love with the waterfall. As time went on, it would bend, further and further in its direction. It would peer into it's magnificence and catch glimpses of it until one day, it fell over, and became part of the waterfall. At the time, this was love. So they are: fell skinny tree and waterfall. I asked the tree what it thought of it's new placement:
wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
.:.:.
I am reading four books at one time. It is a little confusing.
Today we all gathered in front of the mountain. There was something going on. The tops of the snowcapped peaks were lit up in a white blaze, and the shy pink sunset line was below them. Below that was the tropics, which are also located on the peaks, with dozens of thoughtful waterfalls (some which are lovers and rush into one stream) and green trimmings. But what was really spectacular was the fog, and once again how it interacted with the mountain. It was swamping, in the middle of the valley pouch of the mountain, and it seemed to be gathering from west (Lauterbrunnen), into a vast fog puddle right in the center. Everyone was out watching it, as if it were the apocalypse. I studied this fog, and tried to compare it to one thing, too soft to be even the slightest kiss, the only thing I could link it to was a blessing. When Jewish holy men wave their hands over the wall in succession, or the Shabat dinner, this is the same motion of the ever moving, fog. I looked deep into the fog, and it was clear that there were beings within it. There were moving angels. I have never seen anything look so much like dancing bodies, even dancing bodies. Spectacular. I sat on the edge of a railing, on the side of a cliff, and watched everything...move. Possibly even more touching was the 60 year old woman that decided to climb up and sit by my side. She's the one that had lost her husband. She stared at that mountain for as long as I have. I don't know her name, but I know that we both shared that. I should have given her a hug, or patted her on the back, but I didn't. I just well, enjoyed her sadness to be frank. I think I finally gathered that mountain and put it in my soul today. It was so cute/sad, to see this little woman, feet dangling, head shaking "no" at how beautiful it all was. The reason it is "no" is because you realize you have spent your entire life not having faith in anything, and then come here, and realize you were all wrong, and there is nothing but faith. She tells me that the problem is that her new husband is too something. I Say that's not the problem, the problem is that you have a problem with something that makes him happy.
I ask Petra why she has such a successful marriage and she says "we don't all the time". She says running away is always the wrong option. I loved her answer. I think it's the best one I've ever heard.
Walter is funny, he puts on my glasses today and offers me wine. Asks me how long I'm staying
Forever
Know Swiss German?
Not much
Want a Swiss boy?
Yes
Farmer or Hay-er?
Farmer
Learn Swiss German, we will get you a boy.
They have become the match makers. and I , the girl, waiting so passionately to be matched.
.:.:.
I made the best decision today. I blame it on the fact that the mountain came back.
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