A goodbye

A whisker left on the carpet after the cat is gone can bring so many thoughts on how much an animal is able offer in its lifetime and how little we, perfect and reasonable human beings, are capable of appreciating it.

"Another kind of book"

There is an old Math teacher (actually, a whole family of teachers) who makes the best known exercise book for Secondary School Maths. The book is unofficially called "The Chicken"because it has a duckling on the cover, regardless of the level of the class, year after year. It's a good book: revised and adapted each year, no errors, costless, easy to handle, diversified. They bring it directly to schools and they are nice and reliable.
Well, this old teacher brought us a gift. He published, on his own expense, a book dedicated to teachers that has the same cover with the duckling and the title of the post. Inside there are poems, short real stories, epigrams related to teaching. Each one has a motto in Latin (a dictum) and the same final line: "The rest? The rest is silence."
He offered a book, with a few handwritten lines, to each teacher he has collaborated with.
Only a confirmed and incurable idealistic person can teach for a lifetime.
The rest is silence.

SVAW

Team work can also be a family affair. Doing things together is a way to make links stronger. Hand, labelling and photo are ours, the message is public.

Traditional food fair

Slow food, you may call it, traditional food from Northern Moldavia in a fair in the park. We got smoked trout, cheese, mushroom salad, ham....

nature and scenes

There has not been a final golden wutumn yet. Green fights for survival, but the low temperatures will finish with it.

Each one tries to shelter from these cold mornings, like these men and women wearing the traditional Castillian cloak. I knew there was a special day for these garments. It was Saturday morning. As a matter of fact, they can wear it whenever they want, but it is not common to see the group together.

The ancient survivors to storms, rain, snow, wind remain silent as always. just watching life pass in front of them.

some mornings

yesterday morning, when I was coming down to school, I faced this grey un-light. It was like a smoky blanket between the sky and the mountains. It felt cold and mysterious. I wouldn't say beautiful but appealing, like a whisper calling you to enter and forget. Less than foggy but more than cloudy, that area seemed to be dwelling a different world. Then, it was the lessons and the wonder disappeared.

Unwords

I may have posted this before, but since we have been talking of trees, here it is.

Unwords
by Nichta Stanescu

He offered me a leaf like a hand with fingers.
I offered him a hand like a leaf with teeth.
He offered me a branch like an arm.
I offered him my arm like a branch.
He tipped his trunk towards me
like a shoulder.
I tipped my shoulder to him
like a knotted trunk.
I could hear his sap quicken, beating
like blood.
He could hear my blood slacken like rising sap.
I passed through him.
He passed through me.
I remained a solitary tree.
He-a solitary man.