i’ve had this xkcd comic strip on a bookmark for years, and return to it frequently for some perspective.
it’s so tempting to complain about lack of time… but how much time do we actually need? and more importantly, what things could we be optimising to create that time? think about it!
river crossings.
on the last post, i mentioned this desire to collect botanical specimens and “bring all the green things” home with me, and it reminded me of the jardin majorelle, one of my favourite places in marrakesh. even crowded with tourists, i find it irresistibly beautiful.
i think part of the allure of the majorelle garden is just how unexpected it is. in the middle of a dusty ocre city, the gardens are a green oasis — like an escape hatch from the the traffic and the heat. everywhere you look, there’s complicated cacti, towering bamboo or blooming vines, twisted around and covering the pergolas that surround the buildings and fountains.
and part of it is also the fact that the whole thing is a love story, from beginning to end. french painter jacques majorelle curated this garden over a lifetime, bringing back all kinds of plants from his travels to nurture and grow here. and so over time, the gardens became an immense green collection, showcasing his love affair with botany.
after jacques died, the gardens fell in disrepair and the land ended up for sale… until yves saint laurent and pierre bergé fell in love with them too, bought them, and kept it going, even adding to it over time.
and though it’s not as peaceful today as it might have been 50 years ago, it’s still growing and flowering, a testament to all these love stories. whenever i’m standing below the swaying bamboo stalks from far away places, i feel like i’m in a pretty special place in the world.
for all i talk about hiking, i guess it’s pretty obvious that i like wandering.
part of what i like is the company, the conversation that flows easily when we’re up on the hills without digital barriers to distract us. but part of it is just nature itself, the little green things that grow in all the landscapes we walk in. they’re beautiful and i can’t help but noticing them wherever we go…
this year started with a walk with friends on january 1st, and the woods in this corner of france were filled with fresh life, despite the winter slumber. i wanted to bring it all home so much, but hélas, i don’t think ryanair would be too happy about that…
i’ve been making an effort to write more lately, not just because it helps me think, but also because looking through the photos on our (freshly organised) backup discs gives me both chills and a pang of guilt. there’s so much i wanted to tell and write about on the blog… so many things we did and saw, which we’ll inevitably forget if i don’t write them down. somedays i feel like time is slipping though my fingers, and it’s been getting worse as we move on through life, routine and work slowly expanding to fill our waking hours.
and yet, so many beautiful things happen! some insignificant and some amazing — but in their small way, all these things i write about made me stop and look.
so i’ve been trying to write a few minutes everyday, just a few, keeping it simple and sustainable. sometimes i’m dead tired and it’s just one minute, sometimes i make it a full 20min before it’s 10pm and i need to be in bed *pronto*. yup.
it’s working though – words are quietly coming to my fingertips again, and i like it. let’s keep this success spiral going.