earth on foot 7
9 july 2025
Two birds dash by my head and land on the branch of a tree nearby. They are arguing, one chirping pointedly at the other, then the two tweeting back-and-forth aggressively. A strong wind blows across my back; branches from a recent storm scuttle about the sidewalk and the tall yew bushes shimmy. The bickering birds depart out of sight, yet I still hear them talking to each other intermittently until my attention shifts to the cafe soundtrack: Bob Marley singing “Buffalo Soldier.”
Snapshot: a set of black umbrella-covered patio tables near the Jožef Stefan Institute in Ljubljana, Slovenia on this, a day with a “blue true dream of sky” (e e cummings)—but I’ll stop praising the day there, remembering the German idiom I learned yesterday: Man soll den Tag nicht vor dem Abend loben—one shouldn’t praise the day before the evening has come.
Evening is coming soon now, though. Hours have passed since the breezes, birds, and buffalo soldier, so I’ll go ahead and praise away! This day with its sunshine, 70-degree temperature, and, presently, delicious pour-over from a place called črno zrno. (Slovenian language looks and sounds really cool, no?)
I just finished a hike on the Ljubljana Castle Trail, a short, 2-mile, 377-foot elevation gain trek with a view. Slovenia’s natural beauty—including forests, mountains, waterfalls, and slot canyons, some of which we visited last weekend with friends—knocks me out.
At Lake Bled, some of us talked physics (Hubble Tension, anyone?), some drank espresso, and we all later artfully dined and slept at Hiša Franko, in Kobarid. At night, the spray of stars in the deep dark sky calmed us.
When running and walking, unexpected encounters—graffiti, animal, plant—abound. Snap a photo, or put the camera away. Every moment is a gift, an opportunity to get present to life, to be surprised!
My friend Julia reminded me of this recently when, sitting in her beautiful gardens, she stopped mid-sentence to say, “Oh, hello, Blackbird!” And a moment later, again: “Hello, Robin!” With genuine joy, genuine astonishment.
(Julia, now in her 80s, is a friend and mentor from my old job. She and that pomegranate in Venice I told you about—some subjects need more time and escape my linguistic grasp thus far! Coming, I promise!)
Meanwhile, the city of Ljubljana has a network of bicycle lanes and a bike share that costs three euros per year for a subscription. When we first arrived, I declined to use it (fear), but since then I have cautiously ridden a short distance back from the grocery, and just now rode it home. I clicked that cycle into its stand with a smile, and noticed a bright pink hibiscus tree nearby. Bloom on, partner!
