A Moveable Feast | Rochester, NY, USA

flowers_dayThis year, as it happens every once in a while, the “Western” (Catholic and Protestant) Easter and the Orthodox Easter coincide, and so do – by extension – Palm Sunday and Tsvetnitsa, respectively, both of which happened to be today.

And, as far as I’m concerned, there was no better way to spend the day than by walking around Rochester’s Park Avenue area, where – luckily for me – spring has spring. I even got to see some blooming crocuses/croci. What an ugly name for such a beautiful flower, although I have to admit that the Bulgarian минзухар (pronounced meen-zoo-har) is no feast for the ears either.

Speaking of feasts, while thinking of a title for this post, I came across an explanation of why Hemingway’s posthumously published memoir was called A Moveable Feast (the term is originally used to describe Christian holidays that don’t take place on the same date every year, such as Easter and Palm Sunday). The title was apparently suggested by A. E. Hotchner, who supposedly remembered a conversation, in which Hemingway said, “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”

I like this idea of carrying past experiences around like a moveable feast, and my time in the States somehow feels like that to me.

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Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument | New Mexico, USA

tent_rocks_cactusI lost my phone and, together with it, all my pictures from my visit to Santa Fe, sadly.

All I can post here from that trip are these two snaps, taken with a friend’s camera (thank you, Julia!), during our hike around the Tent Rocks National Monument, but it’s just as well – I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to visit Santa Fe again, but I’m pretty sure that I won’t be going hiking again anytime soon.

tent_rocksEven if that turns out to be the last hike I ever go on, however, that wouldn’t be too shabby of an experience. As far as hikes go, this one was truly breath-taking. Not so much because of the hot sun shining mercilessly on our heads, the dry wind filling our mouths with dust, the lack of water and the slopes that made me pant without end, all of which were serious factors I had to contend with. But rather because the views and the scenery around the area really did take my breath away. Like much of the rest of New Mexico, the Tent Rocks National Monument also had a otherworldly feel to it, like you had just landed on another planet, which these pictures don’t quite do a justice too, but only begin to hint at.