the rate at which a foreign child speaks, is golden to a language learners ear.
spent the day on the western coast of france in La Rochelle. lighthouses and historic castles, patisseries and open parkways, ivy ridden archways and cyclists everywhere...at the atlantic shoreline, the uneven rocks that we sat on were not merely limestone. they had stories. they had battles won and lost, upon them. cigarette butts in between them. moss growing all over them. zillions of photographs taken of them. and shells washed up upon them daily. their lifeline is admired by many.
i have a beautiful idea of what tomorrow will bring. not places or things, but feelings. as long as i react to where i'm at, good things will come. it's when we stop reacting and just interact within a place...that habits surface and bore us into trouble.
that's today's thesis. haha.
BONsoir.
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