capturing in prose
まるでアルプスの春であるかのようなその花畑は、そのネガティブな側面をとかく指摘したくなる人に言わせれば、単に都会の隙間に忘れられた農地のかけらである。
The field of flowers as if it were so called Alpine meadow is, in someone’s pessimistic view, a fragment of a farmland forgotten in an urban city.
my second contribution to WPC:Place in the World.
When I was a school boy learning how the world was working, paddy fields were my place of the world and then soon a wetland in southern France came to be a place of my yearning for after reading a novel setting in Camargue. It didn’t take so long time to decide to visit there to see the world. It still looked enough simple like a connect-the-dots communication but, spending a hot-blooded decade, suddenly I learned the world was so complicated and life was not so easy. My paddy field is now just a parking lot made with black asphalt and I’ve never been to Camargue.
In response to the weekly photo challenge, Place in the World by The Daily Post.
A Part of Wordless Wednesday
A Part of Mostly Monochrome Monday
ようやくグレーの雲は見当たらなくなったものの、まだ風の唸り声が時折激しく壁の向こうに響いている。ヒルガオはひと月早く咲き始め、バラはすでに満開を過ぎるころ。今週は、Blogの更新もいつもと違うスケジュール。
