Home is wherever the road takes me …
My memory of Hévíz—a Hungarian spa town—is a memory of sensation. My time there is sacred. It’s not a particularly “exciting” time; it’s a rejuvenating contemplative retreat more than anything. For close to a month, my routine consists of eating, walking, resting, sleeping, soaking in mineral hot springs, and receiving wellness treatments (massages, mud packs, etc.). For me, it is bliss. It’s the closest to I get to God.
On more than one occasion I’ve gone there to disconnect from life-as-I-know-it where I live; to disconnect from computers; phones; responsibilities. Solitude is available in large quantities. I slow down. I stop thinking. And when I stop thinking, I begin to sense life in and around me in ways I tend to overlook during the rest of the year. What I find through disconnection is a reconnection with the language of my senses—and nature.
For example …
From my window each morning
I hear and see:
.
.
From the cobblestone streets
I watch and listen:
.
.
From the lake—a thermal lake—
I feel my skin enveloped in heat and liquid nutrition:
.
.
I smell
sweetness in the earth; air; trees:
.
.
Well … there’s earth, air, and trees in that video, but you can’t really smell them.
Perhaps one year I’ll capture the scent and share it here …
~
This post was prepared for:
Language > Place Blog Carnival #14:
Locating the Senses in Language / Place
Meeting relatives within walking distance of my paternal ancestors’ bones.
Translation aside, I have no idea what they’re saying… do you?
Kleinwarasdorf, Burgenland, Austria
In Vancouver, it rains. Occasionally, it hails. When it does, it’s micro-micro-micro-sized.
This song from this CD
is emanating from the speakers in my vehicle as
I drive along the TransCanada #1
from Harrison Hot Springs to Vancouver.
Grab onto the railing…underwater massage
with jets in all directions. Thermal bubbles like this are
commonplace in Hungary. Hot springs in Canada
don’t feature these contraptions.
Wonder why that is?
This is the only traffic I encountered along the 5 km stretch of forest
that connects Hévíz to Keszthely, Hungary.
Before heading down the pathway, I asked a local woman:
Any wild animals that should concern me?
No, she said, then laughed, and looked at me funny.
~
For more on Hévíz, go here, here, and here.
Three words.
What’s amazing in your world?
Trees, the forest, the view from my room in the Hungarian spa town of Hévíz.
Every day, for 21 straight, these birds broke my sleep at 4 in the morning.
Wonder what they’re saying…
~
Prepared for Festival of the Trees—
a monthly blog carnival for all things arboreal.
Festival #52: Healthy Curiosity
This bird sang for me on a May day in Hungary.
I was strolling streets aimlessly in the spa town of Hévíz.
Any idea what kind of bird this is?
swimming sideways at harrison hot springs
a balmy august evening at 10 pm
reverence / luminescence
waves of light
~
Prepared for Language/Place Blog Carnival #8: The Poetry of Place.
A few words from host Walter Bjorkman > here.
Two photos of Hévíz, Hungary are featured in the September issue of elimae. I took the photos of the lake in broad daylight back in May–the water was warm; centigrade, about 33 degrees.
Here’s the link → Lake Hévíz, Hungary
And below, a MicroMoment I captured the same day:
In case you’re wondering, the correct pronunciation of elimae is el–ee-may. It stands for ‘electronic literary magazine’. It’s been around since 1996, features creative writing and occasional images, boasts an elegant minimalist design, and is currently published under the joint editorship of Cooper Renner and Kim Chinquee in the U.S.
.