Restaurant Warmth

Occasionally we stop at a restaurant, called the Piatto d'Oro, in Geneva, Switzerland that's very close to the airport. It has a large outdoor terrace which is nice in summer - although you can almost touch the planes as they go overhead to land.

I love warm bright restaurant and cafe scenes; I'm thinking to paint this one day since it's so heart-warming.

We went some time ago and it was too cold to sit on the terrace. The inside is very nicely decorated. Here's a photo showing a small part of it that I think is really neat.

Next door to the restaurant is a house with a pretty garden full of flowers. Along the curb where cars park for the restaurant were these.

The Charm of Wisteria

Wisteria seems to grow well in the Geneva area and surrounds. It adorns many homes, providing color, beauty and shade.









Wisteria in the Parc des Bastions in Geneva, Switzerland, makes this wall even more interesting.





The way the vines spread out enhances the flowing shape and accessibility of the flowers.









The purple flowers hang like bunches of sparkling grapes.




















In Annecy, France, there is a magnificent white wisteria vine on one of the buildings along the canal.








Looking at it from the other side you can see that it has grown up three balcony levels.





















It's massive with flowers covering the wall almost entirely.











It gives the same fairy-like quality that Art Nouveau can give. I love the way the reflections of the water from the canal play with the white flowers.
The trunk almost gives the impression of having a living being hidden within it, perhaps a fairy that emerges when we're not looking. Whatever, it certainly has character and seems to speak of something old.


The vines knot together, making it appear to be one whole trunk.










Looking up through the blossoms gives the ultimate view of its delicate finery.

The Way In Which We're Changing Our World

I spend a lot of time thinking about how our world is changing and what we, as the human race and dominant animal on our planet, are doing to our environment and ourselves. My mind goes round and round wondering how it is that we can continue in behavior that clearly does us harm. There are all sorts of examples of this, both obvious ones and not so obvious ones. We can become addicted to all sorts of behavior, substances and even emotional circumstances. The question is why?

Most people are well-meaning, considerate and wouldn't intentionally hurt others. But it seems the truth is, we're not being alerted to certain conditions quickly enough to trigger a healthy response to ensure ourselves a better future. Today someone sent me a video entitled: "Why haven’t we rallied our collective power to solve global warming?", and it happens to cover this very question and seems to provide an answer to this query.

I don't usually link to videos because they can often take more time than a person might want to give. Here is the choice of listening to the well-prepared talk by Dan Gilbert in video format, or a shorter summary in print. (The print version includes a reference in the title which I would not personally use as an example in today's world as something offensive to the general public's morality and I don't wish to offend anyone by linking to this. But if taken as simply an illustration that can be replaced by something that is offensive to the reader, then the point being made remains apparent.) I do recommend watching the video talk if you can spare the time - it's about 14 minutes long.

If I understood it correctly, Dan Gilbert, Professor of Psychology at Harvard University, is saying that because our brains aren't wired to pick up gradual, impersonal changes we don't vividly compute such changes as an immediate threat even though they may be tremendously dangerous to us in the future.

I've always thought that if every breath I take didn't hurt (it doesn't hurt when I'm in pristine country air) I too would completely forget about global warming, pollution, the overuse of chemicals, cleaning products, laundry products, fabric softeners and perfumes. But each breath racks the lungs with burning pain and the brain with the continual question: why?

I remember how vibrantly blue the sky looked against a beautifully crisp green tree when I looked up as a teenager. I remember specifically telling myself to always remember that snapshot view because it was so fantastic. And today these truly brilliant colors of nature around us can still be seen, but only rarely and on especially clear days. And I wonder how we can forget what our world was not so very long ago and how we can tolerate it...and I'm not that old!

And then when I watch a beautiful bird, an African Grey, scratch and fleece herself of her feathers in very specific spots and become lethargic and dull, as a result of being poisoned in that same chemically poisonous atmosphere, my cry of anguish and the question "why?" becomes even more excruciating. Previous post "Jasmine and Her Continuing Tousle With Air Quality" gives the background to this, if you're not familiar with Jasmine.

Somehow I feel better with the understanding that Dan Gilbert's talk gives. I knew it wasn't malice on our part as human beings, but it seemed so inexplicable and has been perplexing me for some time. Hopefully soon we can show our intelligence on a large scale, to save the beauty of our planet, ourselves and the other living beings we share it with, both microscopically tiny and large. I hope it answers something for you too. Cheers.

Living Mountains, Jura, France

Mountains are made up of a myriad of living entities. It's only reasonable that as a conglomerate they would appear to be living, almost breathing beings themselves. Every time you look at them, they appear slightly different.

Sometimes the moon adorns their hillsides in the morning hours.

Clouds appear to play with the trees, dipping down to touch them.

They lay down gently covering them like a blanket.










And in the evening, the cloud can look like it's bubbling over the edge of the peaks......like a chemistry experiment with froth slipping over the edge of a beaker.


Or maybe it's like a duvet, covering all the mountain and its inhabitants softly and safely for the night.