September 15th
I like this rainy weather. It makes me feel like I'm still in a tropical country. The green is greener, the roads run with rivulets of rainwater, the leaves hum and sing and the air is wonderfully crisp.
Monday, September 27, 2010
257/365 Greenhouses
September 14th
The neighbourhood where I work has this seasidey feel to it. I don't quite know why.
The neighbourhood where I work has this seasidey feel to it. I don't quite know why.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
255/365 Hats
255/365 Hats, originally uploaded by Magic Madzik.
September 12thBecause it was Sunday, and it had rained a lot, and it is the season for mushrooms, my flatmate and I decided to go to the forest to engage in that well established traditional Slavic pastime, mushroom hunting.
Alas we were too cavalier about the whole enterprise and thus left too late, without any baskets, got lost along the way and finally decided that exploring the lush Rąbień forest was more fun than actually looking for edible funghi. We did see many families with full baskets, though.
But when you go to the woods this autumn, even if you are not harvesting, you should keep your eyes open and look low to the undergrowth.
Because there is so much more to a forest than mushrooms...
Of course, if you do not find any edible mushrooms, you can still admire the less desirable ones.
And then, when you least expect it, you may stumble upon a forest ghost story.
In conclusion, mushroom hunting definitely deserves its high rank among treasured autumn activities.
Even if your harvest is nothing worth bragging about.
253/365 The little stinky mud canal
September 10th
Actually, it is one of several little rivers which flow through Lodz, and it is called the Bałutka. Lodz is not famous for being a riverside town (though the word łódź literally means boat) since all 18 of its rivers and streams are sneaky, flowing underground as often as they do over, and often running through man made canals such as this one under the East to West railroad tracks. The Bałutka is now mostly rainwater. Not far from this spot it will join the slightly larger river Łódka, which some presume is the so far unconfirmed origin of the city's strange name...
Actually, it is one of several little rivers which flow through Lodz, and it is called the Bałutka. Lodz is not famous for being a riverside town (though the word łódź literally means boat) since all 18 of its rivers and streams are sneaky, flowing underground as often as they do over, and often running through man made canals such as this one under the East to West railroad tracks. The Bałutka is now mostly rainwater. Not far from this spot it will join the slightly larger river Łódka, which some presume is the so far unconfirmed origin of the city's strange name...
252/365 Snail's lunchtime
September 9th
I used to be so tired I would sleep through lunch at work, now I go exploring the area with my sandwich in one hand and my camera in the other. This is almost the edge of the city, so there is lots of green, and lots of things living in the green. They eat lunch, too.
I used to be so tired I would sleep through lunch at work, now I go exploring the area with my sandwich in one hand and my camera in the other. This is almost the edge of the city, so there is lots of green, and lots of things living in the green. They eat lunch, too.
251/365 Fever
September 8th
Zulka caught cat flu. She slept most of it off,and is taking her antibiotics like a good kitty. Funny timing, though, this was the exact day I decided to take her to the vet for an ordinary check up. She was all right in he morning, but by the time we saw the doctor she had a fever.
Zulka caught cat flu. She slept most of it off,and is taking her antibiotics like a good kitty. Funny timing, though, this was the exact day I decided to take her to the vet for an ordinary check up. She was all right in he morning, but by the time we saw the doctor she had a fever.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
250/365 Lost gravestone
September 7th
Across the street from my current workplace is a rather large cemetery, and scattered all around the neighbourhood are stonecutters' workshops supplying new headstones for the graves. Of course, when a headstone is removed...well, more often than not it ends up dumped somewhere in the wilderness nearby. I've found many abandoned grave markers like that through the years, it's a bit sad, but also mysterious. Did no one make payments for these people's resting places? Were they abandoned? Forgotten? Exhumed? Resurrected?
And perhaps there is something just a little bit romantic about the idea of a ghostly name carved in stone setting off into the wild, as if to find a better, more peaceful resting place for its former owner's memory.
Across the street from my current workplace is a rather large cemetery, and scattered all around the neighbourhood are stonecutters' workshops supplying new headstones for the graves. Of course, when a headstone is removed...well, more often than not it ends up dumped somewhere in the wilderness nearby. I've found many abandoned grave markers like that through the years, it's a bit sad, but also mysterious. Did no one make payments for these people's resting places? Were they abandoned? Forgotten? Exhumed? Resurrected?
And perhaps there is something just a little bit romantic about the idea of a ghostly name carved in stone setting off into the wild, as if to find a better, more peaceful resting place for its former owner's memory.
Friday, September 24, 2010
249/365 Moon over plane
September 6th
I did not want to be anywhere but in bed at five am on a Monday morning. Coincidence and family anxiety dictated another turn of events. Well, at least I got a nice photo out of the whole brouhaha.
And exactly what am I doing at the airport at such an hour? Rushing my sister to catch a plane. Her train was delayed by an hour, but since the plane was rerouted and many passengers were riding it, they let them all check in late. But it was touch and go, a masterpiece of a rail-taxi-taxi-airplane combo, if I do say so myself. After she was on board, I rode the bus home like a hobo.
I did not want to be anywhere but in bed at five am on a Monday morning. Coincidence and family anxiety dictated another turn of events. Well, at least I got a nice photo out of the whole brouhaha.
And exactly what am I doing at the airport at such an hour? Rushing my sister to catch a plane. Her train was delayed by an hour, but since the plane was rerouted and many passengers were riding it, they let them all check in late. But it was touch and go, a masterpiece of a rail-taxi-taxi-airplane combo, if I do say so myself. After she was on board, I rode the bus home like a hobo.
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