My keyboard and my inner photographer are intrinsically connected.
My various personalities often wait for me when I sit down at my pc.
Wanna join me? Come hither …
Tag: #Ragtag Daily Prompt
No more Guards
The aptly named “Pont de l’Europe” or “Europabrücke” between Strasbourg (France) and Kehl (Germany). This used to be a “proper” border with guards, and customs officers, and showing your passport. Then with the EU progressing, the controls became more lax and you only had to show your national ID document and often, you weren’t really checked at all.
Nowadays it’s just a bridge, there are no controls at all. Somewhere in the middle of the bridge is a sign denoting that you are entering from one country into the next. I would have liked to show that but it was impossible to take a photo in the totally jam-packed tram. Strasbourg and Kehl share a tramline (with announcements in both, French and German) and lots of people hop on in one country and get off in the other.
Walking up the Lothar Pfad
The worst winter storm in recorded European history was Cyclone Lothar in 1999. In the Black Forest there is a strip of land which was left to heal itself. It’s possible to walk through the area and see what happens if nature is left to do its own thing. In order not to disturb this process visitors are not allowed to walk on the ground but on the raised planks leading through the emerging forest.
My husband’s first name is Lothar so he has a special connection to the area.
They Are just Justs
The international running group of which I am part is known for its – let’s call it: creative – nicknames. A nickname has to be earned – you come to a few runs, you do something gloriously stupid, you are named. So when you first come to runs you are referred to as a “just”. Just + first name. Hence, these two would have been known as Just Johann and Just Friedrich if they had joined the HHH.
Reversal
I tried to find a photo with Henry looking adoringly at us, at anything … I gave up and have accepted that it is us adoring him. Of course, we do.
pictures imperfect blog 