The Past: They say that one can’t or shouldn’t go back…

First of all, who are these famous “they”? And why would we bother to believe anything they say?  Sometimes a return to the past can be not only wonderful but salutary.

But before I get into the more philosophical aspects of that title, there are the more mundane. Although 99% of the time I am ever so grateful for the freeway bypass of the city of Thonon in France, there is that 1%. This time on my way to the mountains I decided that I really did need to see the beautifully flowered roundabouts and lakefront that were on my path for so many years. Having no appointments, nor timing to be respected, I decided to not take the bypass but to wander. The floral displays were every bit as lovely as I remembered, but I had forgotten the fountains – a deviation well worth the extra minutes.

The roundabout upon entering Thonon

Fountains on the lake front of Thonon

Part of the roundabout leaving Thonon

middle band in Evian

Flower pot in front of City Hall in Evian

That in turn reminds me of many favorite roads, some of which I may never have the pleasure of driving again, but that are there in my memory should I need them.

And so it is with the past: perhaps we can’t return to that exact minute, the exact circumstances, the good, bad, indifferent or wonderful, but we can’t simply ignore that they ever existed either nor that they are part and parcel of what we have become.

I treasure a childhood friendship more today than I did then; I wouldn’t give up those from over 40 years ago, nor those from 30 years ago, nor those more recent. Each new friendship adds a layer to my life – building upon those solid foundations laid by others.

Going down an old path doesn’t mean trying to repeat that past, it simply means seeing something distant again – seeing it in a different way, perhaps indifferently, but just as likely the experience can be even better than the first time.

One road in particular illustrates my thoughts: Highway 1 in California.

I surely first experienced this with my parents as I know we did visit relatives who spent their summers at Hearst Castle, but my memories are vague and I probably found it tiresome at the time.  The next time I drove this would have been with my husband and older son – at least a short bit of it – there too what remains thirty years later – is the sensation I had of wanting to simply let the car float off into the clouds at one of the many turns winding along the Pacific Ocean.  Then there was the time I drove it alone, traveling in between my two sisters – a beautiful road, but simply one joining my family members. More recent visits hold stronger memories:

-       driving it with my now deceased little sister;

-       the trip when we returned from Northern California together with my older son and stopped at many favorite places along the way

-       the trip with a girlfriend from Switzerland where I got lost, but we ended up discovering what became one of my favorite hotels along the route.

-       the trip up with my sister and sister-in-law after the death of the other sister (truly a pilgrimage that trip)

-       the trip with my younger son and his then girlfriend before one of my nephew’s wedding

I have many favorite places from the past to which I would gladly return, but each year I add new ones so who knows how many I will be able to repeat; how many will remain in the past and how many will become a new experience each time.

It is the same with people: we change, they change, but true friends simply add better layers and experiences – the past is with us always, may we incorporate it into our lives in the best manner possible. May the future be enriched by our past, all the while enjoying the present to the fullest.

So I’m off for a hike in some of my favorite mountains.

La Creusaz

Old photo of Dents de Morcles - May 2016

Looking towards the Mont Blanc from La Creusaz

Coming out of the mountains…

The cows that is.

Part of fall in the mountains of Switzerland is the return of the cows from their high summer pastures to the valley. Many of these have become popular tourist attractions, so much so in fact that sometimes one forgets the original purpose of bringing the cows down to safer climes.

In the smaller villages there is not much – it is simply as it was since ancient times.

The family that pastures the cows at Emaney, Valais brought their troop down a few days ago: there are still traces on the street of their passage.

Fall in the alps

And all of a sudden we have arrived at the last day of September – fall started a few days ago and I am blessed to be able to enjoy the time in the mountains.

The days are shorter; the air clean and crisp; when the skies are blue they are really blue -when gray more fog than cloud; I can again walk along paths that were too hot this summer; the tourists are rare, especially during the week; in short a great place to enjoy time on one’s own.

As much as I love my life at home, my life here is necessary to my equilibrium.

The mountains color my fall beautiful!

sunset September 29, 2015

Happy families don’t have any history…

And maybe bloggers don’t either – or, as is my case these past few days (weeks) my blogs are rather autobiographical.

 

Now what Tolstoy really said was: “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”.

And, although some of you may be bored with the minutiae of my life, others will be enjoying the glimpses of the Swiss and French Alps that they don’t know or can’t readily access. Since I can’t please everyone at the same time, this time I am choosing to please myself. 

First thought upon awakening this morning early – o.k. get up and go take that walk before it gets too hot. The second actually setting out on the walk and turning around at the top on the flat was “hallelujah” it may be a wee bit cooler.

It was – blessed relief.

Since there was a bit of a breeze I decided that lunch up the mountain would be a very good idea and took myself up the cable car and to the restaurant at La Creusaz (for my French-speaking friends as the link is only in French: http://lacreusaz.weebly.com/informations--accegraves.html

A very fresh mixed salad

Steak tartare and its' accompiaments

A burst of freshness as the berries are very tart but ah with the sugar - exquisite.

A bit of a walk then back down the mountain comfortably in the gondola.

looking towards France

Alpine orchids - who knew?

 

Last look at "my" mountains

I might not have much of a history, but it is happy for the moment.

“Gather ye rosebuds whilst ye may” or…

In my case – wildflowers.

The quote of the title is very well known (but who knows to whom it should be attributed?)

Urging us in general to not waste time, but to do that for which tomorrow may be too late.

Usually whoever quotes it is trying to get someone else to “get on with it” and they are probably not thinking much of nature.

However, all philosophy aside, I gathered photos of wildflowers today: there is that magic few days in late spring, early summer when almost all the wildflowers are in bloom in my little corner of the Swiss alps. It is a short period – thus the link to the quote. It was a joy to see each one – however, I actually did resist taking photos of the dandelions, the clover buds and the thistle balls – I also add NO cultivated flowers although many are coming along nicely besides the chalets and barns. But I couldn't resist the one lilac tree in someone's yard - and the "fuzzy chicken" - they're back!

And in order to not stretch your brain cells too much on this glorious Sunday, the quote isn’t Shakespeare nor any of the well known and oft quoted poets. In fact I bet that most of this poet’s works are better known for their phrases than for his name: Robert Herrick – a 17^th poet and cleric.

 

 

Finding one’s equilibrium

Life’s a balancing act: and usually we aren’t on the fulcrum but rather either up or down or somewhere in between, very rarely are we perfectly in balance.

To re-align ourselves, or find our equilibrium, we have many possibilities: from some it is listening to music (and again depending upon the person it can vary across the whole spectrum); for some it’s getting lost in a book; for some it’s exercise; for some it’s sleep; for some it’s vacation; for others work – you get the idea.

These activities can be added to places that allow one to re-center oneself: again there are as many possibilities as there are persons, however we often think

• City breaks – big cities with museums, concerts and the like
• Beach vacations – some simply enjoy the sun and water, others are more sporty
• Countryside – with walks and slower activities
• Cultural excursions – to a specific museum or entertainment
• Mountains – hiking of all sorts, fresh air, skiing in the winter

It is the lucky person – or wise one – who knows what they need to do to relax and find their inner point of calm.

For me it’s the mountains, although in an emergency there are a few beaches in this world when in the offseason I can also happily wander. I can be social (very) but inevitably I need to retreat from people and explore nature. Nothing does me more good than a walk through the forests of some mountain peak or cross rough terrain above tree line.

After a two-week period of overly social activities – everyone of which I did enjoy – I was at the end of my rope so to speak so headed upwards. This mornings’ walk did wonders: the sound of the breeze in the trees, the birds twittering their news - I didn’t hate even the crows this morning- the crickets in the grass, the sheep bleating to each other, the sound of the water in the small rivers, it was all good.  Add to it the perfect temperature and sun – I’m me again!

a new fall

“The Hills are alive with the Sound of Music”

 

Planajeur looking at the Dents de Morcles

Cause I’m singing.

It’s not just the twitter of the birds (not too many crows yet so the little ones can shine), nor the buzzing of the bees; not the wind in the trees nor the crackling of leaves (too damp after the last downpour).  It’s the melody of joy percolating through my soul (much like my beloved coffee earlier).

A sunny day neither too warm – it is May after all and I’m in the alps – nor too cold: no gloves, no bonnet, no heavy jacket.

The joy leaps ahead of me and trails behind me. I’d sing out loud, but it’s actually enough to be humming.

Not only are there sounds in the woods of great harmony, but all the little flowers are blooming from the wild strawberries (a promise of delicious bites to come), to the nubs that will become blueberries: even though I only found three-leaved clover, I don’t need the luck – I carry it with me.

Life at its best, just me and the mountain paths and forests.

more pretty yellow

still a bit of branch laying on the path

very small yellow flowers

very small blue flowers

flowers on the wild strawberries

clover

not-quite-blueberries