welcome

thank you, victor. it is a wonderful surprise that 'on days like these', your book, arrived today.

it is indeed a comfort to know that some things never change. a place, a face, a feeling, a taste, a warmth, a poem, a friendship, anything. a constant thing that stays as it has always been.

like the sun.

perhaps it's because i am a may man. a taurean like you. who never quite want to get too far away from the sun. and from the tales that you have written.

it feels so nice read from you again. especially on the days like these. almost ten years since i was first introduced to you. in that old building where your book of traveller's tales rested as a collection. donated by the british council.

i know that some of them, those who speak very fluently the language of the snows, are also fond of swiming in your lines.

scattered on ice

mexican food, fierce snowball fight, unfinished work, slippery streets, broken sketches, sweet lemonade, cold nescafé, unwanted bike, green photograph, wet pair of shoes, cold freezing toes, no banana, pink usb, untuned guitar, ukulele, iced lamb and flag, series of dream, rock and roll gear, white wedding gown, mega pixels, known history, february, antarctica.

foreign affairs, black blue and green, baia mare, light lone moment, swollen handle, distant phone calls, unexploded, one two and three, clean fresh laundry, d destiny, fair election, pure poetry, red pagoda, last slain dragon, absolutely, lost strawberry, piccadilly, chinese new year, unrhyming words, scattered on ice.

into the grey of winter

at the latter part of the day, a small walk was done.

before we go...

it was taken on the top of a birdwatching tower in the middle of a frozen forest, somewhere in the north.