Adieu my small Garden Town

From Garden town to City. We made an early start this morning. The sun was shining already softly from behind the forest hill. "Carlsheaven" still sleepy recieved its first warming up. The sun rubbed the roofs on until they were shining crimson red. Look, that small “theatrum mundi”, where you are never lost, can always be at ease in the place, where you Are. I hope my Lumix has retained that unique theatrical touch which characterizes our old baroque harbour town.

Every big city - except in its very special sites and locations, parks, corners - every big modern city - I should say - especially in its vast, anonymous outskirts, is a horrible labyrinth, crowded with loud traffic, aggressive people, incapable to offer some form of communicative openness and direction. Without wanting to take an anti-modernist stance, I can’t understand why masses of people prefer an unhealthy living in big city outskirts in stead of choosing for - perhaps a poorer - living standard in a small town somewhere in the country. So much more quality of life!

Close to home because of unforeseeable traffic measures we were forced out of our normal way to the dunes, and got lost and stuck somewhere in such an outskirt wilderness. After a long ride that is not a very attractive art of practicing your Zenny patience. I felt tired and longed for tea at a sunny balcony. Which in the end came true. And more, late in the afternoon I could let all that fatigue and irritation blow away on a fresh Southwestern listening to the overwhelming noise of the surf. Deeply inhaling that dirty old salty sea smell..