Up a Bristol Hill

so began the long walk up the long hill that would take me into the sunset...

banksy?

now this...this was the england of my dreams

...then perchance to rest

Gorge

my tour of Clifton Village's suspension bridge while the sun was setting

sometimes life is sweet

other times it kicks you in the teeth

Touring Bristol

The long walk back to Redcliffe looked a little something like this...

...a few walkways and staircases...

...avon wildlife...

...something old...

...university bound...

Yellow Mentions

image courtesy of Things She Loves via Kelsey Hannah's photostream on Flickr.

I was asked the other week what I liked most about spring. The answers given by all teachers and students were complied into a sound clip and played at an assembly. There was a little error with the clip though and it played my response over and over again. Most kids took the mickey out of me, but some were really curious about what I'd said.

My response?

"The yellow of the forsythia."

I've mentioned it before and it really does bear repeating. The forsythia at Western adorned the sidewalks leading from the campus entrance and from University Tower to the bridge that crossed the Thames. It was such a miraculous time of year when the forsythia would spring forth her majestic yellow bloom. It was a time of ending for us...school would soon be over. But it was a time of beginning too: the summer was here; it was time to go back home to my friends; new jobs would be starting. What a thrill.

Ever since falling deeply in love with forsythia, yellow and all mentions of yellow have reminded me of spring, of summer, of all things warm and romantic and dewy and wonderful. I'm feeling rather warm and wonderful today, so I thought this picture and it's clip summed it all up.

Yellow pollen...

is there anything more summery?

1000 Posts!

I didn't realize I'd reached this milestone until just now. This was the post that marked my 1000th post on Adventures Abound.

Thank you so much for reading this, for being on this journey with me. Thank you for caring that I am living abroad, having strange and beautiful adventures.

Adventures really DO abound!

Father's Day

Meet my father. He is

careful
thoughtful
conscious
challenging
pensive
kind
adhering
reflective
warm
accepting
deliberate
proud
offering
hospitable
empathetic
humble

From the bottom of my heart, I love you.

Happy Father's Day xoxox

Do you know what sound a giraffe makes?

Doing some looking back, getting ready to see my old friend, Matt again this summer.

We asked a poignant question back in August 2009 (wow doesn't that seem like an eternity ago?)...

"Do you know what sound a giraffe makes?"

We didn't know either.

But god, did we laugh about it.

The Long and Windy Road

I wasted so much time being angry.

For so long.

Do you know what the problem is with being angry?

Besides the anger that eats you up inside?

It leaves very little room for happiness

...for jubilation

...and forgiveness

...for comfort

...and for joy.

I think if I had known

...that our time together had an expiration date

...I would have played it differently

...way differently.

Because there is nothing more intimidating than not knowing when the end will come.

It happens when I run all the time. I lose my bearings and just can't be sure if I should slow down and save my reserve energy or motor through the pain and run as fast as my legs will take me. Knowing where the end is certainly does make pacing oneself easier.

Maybe there is something to the notion of living everyday like it's your last.
Every single moment is so precious...why waste it being anything but happy?

I took a walk today on the same path I take to school. I've been transfixed as of late by the flowers, the aritecture, the atmosphere of my little town on my way to or from work, and thought I needed to document it before I left for the summer. I do recall with fond memory pictures of Korea when it snowed. Matt was infuriated with my constant picture taking while his Texas self shivered in the Anyang winter, but it was well worth the self-preservation.

In the middle of this somewhat sunny day, while I was safely shrouded by this little wood, the heavens opened up and it started to pour. A 95-year old man was in there with me and we struck up what turned into a 30-minute conversation. His advice? We should all stop taking ourselves so seriously. It is only at this juncture in my life that I must say I can't agree more.


I hope you're taking time
today
to love
this day.