h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Well, like I told Santra - someone (can't remember who) once said that the meaning of life was to gather those pearls of unforgettable moments never to come again, in order to have a whole string of them in your old days, to finger, and recall...

Nothing fancy, nothing flashy - just special...

So - I thought I'd ask those who are subscribed to my journals (among other things) to contribute with *their* most shimmering pearls

Since it's my journal, I'll contribute with the first pearl: (selfish, isn't it?):

Pausing on the way down the Valle Verzasca in Switzerland, sitting down on a sunwarmed stone, worn smooth by flowing water.
Ice cold water - soaking my feet only to quickly pull them up again, warming them against the warm cliff.
Fresh bread, garlic wurst, tomatoes, cheese, yoghurt.
Relaxing.
Fully enjoying and appreciating the fresh air, the scent of pine forest, the meal (why does it always taste that much better out in the open?), the warmth of the stone and even the chill of the water before pulling socks and shoes on again

After being hauled up by car almost to the top of Mount Etna, where at that time an eruption was going on.

Arriving just before sunset, a few hundred meters away the summit roared and sissed and crackled, and spewed white clouds and black specks.
Half an hour later it was dark, and the black specs had become glowing red slabs of lava rolling down the side of the cone.

On the way down we paused above a lake of red-hot lava, slowly cooling down.

You feel very small and vulnerable then.

Sitting under the cherry tree enjoying a summer's Sunday lunch with H and the sons, a well chilled chablis and delicious food.

Laughing over silly comments mixed in with serious thoughts and hopes and dreams.

All in the shade of the leaves, but the warmth of both sun and family surrounding us. A truly special day.

#1 The middle of summer camping with my parents at around the age of 10 or 11. Waking up in the cool morning the sound of the fire, tea on the boil and the smell of toast for breakfast.

#2 A kid of 11, October , The first snowfall of the year. Huge snowflakes that slowly float to the ground. Standing there for an hour just in the middle of it, mesmerized

We used to swim in the river near our house when I was a kid. I remember the smell of the water, the sound of the water running over the rocks, the feel of fish swimming around my legs. The currrent was gentle and we could float or canoe for about 6 miles from one bridge to another. Not a long distance, but a peaceful, beautiful float.

Waking up on the high desert plateau of Southern Utah right after a rare summer rainshower. Seeing the rainbow wreathe an arch and watching teh desert change in front of my eyes. Seeing the desert roses bloom, the animal life scurrying about to make use of this all to precious resource. inhaling the perfume of a freshly washed desert.

What a splendid idea

Getting into a plane in Queenstown, New Zealand after a few days spent with some particularily nice, warm and friendly people. Looking out over the snow-capped mountains basked in warm, late-winter sunlight. Listening to Bryan Ferry singing "As time goes by" as I sat there in my seat.

Completely at ease with the world, very relaxed and with a profound sense of happiness.

A December evening just before Christmas:

I had been very busy at w*rk, not getting into the Christmas feeling at all, until...

...I sat in a plane on my way back to Stockholm, and it was already dark outside. The plane made a long slow turn, tilting (it was a small passenger plane). I had a seat by the window and I was looking straight down on the ground below.

I saw dark patches of forest and fields white with snow. I saw lonely farms with lights shining out through the windows. I saw Christmas trees outside the houses, with candles lit.
And it was so beautiful.

And I was hit by the spirit of Christmas, and I remember thinking:
'If the plane was to crash now, at least I'd die happy'

In Canada as a student I was being driven through Banff National Park by my uncle. The van broke down in the middle of no where and we had to walk to a phone. Eventually getting picked up we stayed in a random hotel for the night. Next morning my uncle takes me for a stroll to the top of the road. We turn the corner and suddenly we see Lake Louise which always wins my vote for most beautiful place I have ever seen. Suddenly it went from an annoying interuppted journey to the highlight of my three month trip.
Actually an awful lot of these pearls for me involve cresting a hill or turning a corner to see something breathtaking. I must take more photographs.

In Canada as a student I was being driven through Banff National Park by my uncle. The van broke down in the middle of no where and we had to walk to a phone. Eventually getting picked up we stayed in a random hotel for the night. Next morning my uncle takes me for a stroll to the top of the road. We turn the corner and suddenly we see Lake Louise which always wins my vote for most beautiful place I have ever seen. Suddenly it went from an annoying interuppted journey to the highlight of my three month trip.
Actually an awful lot of these pearls for me involve cresting a hill or turning a corner to see something breathtaking. I must take more photographs.

When you train retrievers (the variety), one of the tasks is to train the dog to go to some place out in the terrain (eg where you saw a bird fall but the dog didn''t). This requires the dog to be 100% able to stop, turn left/right, go further away from you - all done in straight lines and on command. Difficult!

I was at a training session with Castor (!) once where we trained retrieving dummies from a lake. I was in the waiting line, chatting a little to the guy next to me - and in the meantime the dog before us completely missed retrieving the dummy that had been thrown for it to fetch.

The trainer looked at me and said, "did your dog see where it landed?" I hadn't a clue as I hadnt paid attention...

Anyway, we went down the the water and I sent Castor off - but he swam in a rather wrong direction. I shrugged and thought that was that - but then the trainer said, "Try to stop him!" I got the whistle and blew the "stop" signal - and Castor did stop and look back, just as on dry land. "WAVE HIM LEFT", the trainer shouted - and I did for all it was worth.

The dog turned left, swam directly to the dummy (with a lot of supporting cheering from me on land), picked it up and carried it straight back to the shore where he nicely delivered it to my hand before shaking the water off his fur.

If the next dog had missed, I think I could have walked across the water to pick it up

Beautiful misty and frosty morning today, all sounds muffled by the mist.

Coming out from the commuter train station I stopped to admire the view of the city as grey silhouettes against the pale light predicting sunrise.

On my way to w*rk I heard honking high above - looking up, I saw dark grey shapes against the pale grey of the mist, flying in V-formation.

The geese flying south must mean that winter can't be far away.

Autumn happens to be my favorite time of year. I remember back in the late 1970's, on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi, the chill wind impinging itself on sunny days, a portent of the changing seasons. Time spent walking in the pine woods, stepping lively over fallen tree trunks and the rustle of dried grass against my jeans. There was a certain smell to the air then, fresh and clean, even without rain, and an undeniably musky odor of plants that had come full cycle and now rested in the gathering mulch. My friends and I reveled in this season, taking camping trips in the natural beauty so near at hand, almost every weekend. We sat around the low embers of a fire of oak boughs, talking about our lives, our loves, our dreams, our aspirations. We laughed, we cried, we mused over things we didn't yet understand, and we spoke with clarity of the things we'd witnessed and personally experienced. It all seemed so definite, so important, so vital, so real. The conversations would ebb and flow, the embers would dim, and we'd find our way to our respective sleeping bags, bundling our bodies away from the cold night air, bundling in our thoughts and contemplating what new things we'd learned about each other as we drifted off to sleep, to await the pale sun of a new Autumn day.

B4

Sounds lovely, B4

I just remembered a magic moment:

I was travelling by train in Austria (going from the south of Austria to Salzburg, I think). It was a cloudy day, but the railway was so high up on a mountainside that we were above the clouds.

It was an amazing and beautiful experience to see the blanket of clouds, in the sunshine, just like it looks like from an airplane - but from a train!

indeed!