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  • Moog
  • En mode (re)découverte de cet équilibre qui m'est propre. J'aime chanter, le tai chi, lire, écrire, rire...apporter du bien être aux autres et profiter du quotidien.
  • En mode (re)découverte de cet équilibre qui m'est propre. J'aime chanter, le tai chi, lire, écrire, rire...apporter du bien être aux autres et profiter du quotidien.
14 juin 2009 7 14 /06 /juin /2009 17:23
Yesterday we had a major argument my love and me. One of those annual monsters that bring you on the verge of something serious and dirty and make you say bad things that'll take years of efforts to overpass, bad things you say after all logical points and examples have run out, just in order to hurt the other in front of you.  Discussion aftermath  like coldwar with no  words for hours; got reconciled just before sleeping and have both of us a hell of a bad night afterwards. Aching awakening.

This morning we all wake up early to fulfill our promise to our youngest son and go to see the animals at the zoo, which happens to be located at an hour car trip in the far west. On the way to our car, clouds like white coat set with a trowel, and a full grid drawn by multiple plane tracks. A plugging day?

On the way to Thoiry park, a couple of buzzards perched side by side on the side poles. Unable to take the picture, but we touch hands and smile, and find unity again. As usual, she drives as I am zapping madly between radio stations. This wave we went through.

parallel plane tracks
two buzzards perched on side poles
love you till I die
 
We find at Thoiry a commuter's nightmare : a one hour and a half traffic jam on the so called African park central road ,all this for the price of a good meal. Of course, wild animals make impossible to open the windows or get out the car, so you have to enjoy it from you bunkerised car  while external temperature indeed climbs up the ladder til african standards, which makes it worse than A86 afternoon peak hour. If this was enough to make you sick, avoid thinking of the poor animals that have to endure this for hours every day and try to live amid the cars.

We finally settle in the poet inn's garden to find a good lunch after this bloody trip, calm down and take the return path. On our way home, tired of get cooked in our car, music flees by the open windows.

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