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One of the dumbest and most dangerous frivolities imaginable

There’s this sublime richness in having ones private enchantment for peace, clarity and creativity right outside ones front door, too enormous not to want to share its picturesqueness, so when our neighbor from an adjacent village comes to gaze the overwhelm, we generously applaud that and as a reward we immerse ourselves in her vocal French flattery, of course our view is the most spectacular of the area, we know.

Proclaiming ownership over a vista must be one of the dumbest and most dangerous frivolities imaginable, bluntly provoking the Gods of Change to Come to accelerate their plans and yet we so often indulge in it, our view, our spectacle, our magic, our dreams. With so many variables we have absolutely no control over, we don’t work those fields and we don’t milk those cows, each and every gander into the great wide open of ‘our’ valley below has this uniqueness and coincidence that I only know from my theater days, it’s all happening in the here and now and it will never be the same again, nor will we because we were there and we were attentively beholding.

As in theatre we like to derelict the false elements, there are not yet illuminated rows of the modern windmills so common nowadays in French countryside, there is no eternal building site at our neighbors if we only move our eyes to the left and the ever morphing entertainment around pathetic spoilers like that would make them disappear from our sight most of the time anyway, it’s amazing what you can do with lighting as the basic provider of imagination and ingenuity, to quote another trodden down theatre cliché.

Pictures are useless when it comes to capturing the actual experience, but necessary for remembering and sharing the gospel or premise of any good play. Not in this one, but definitely adding to its theatrical magic: on their evening stroll, two giants, a baby dog and two cat rascals, following at an appropriate but still close distance, gracefully adapting to their new parts in this staged life of ours, no director needed since only a one kilometer circling is allowed, but we are all skilled improvisors.

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