With this Spring I will have experienced all 4 seasons in Europe. That seen only on a calendar means little…but in reality, I consider it a feat worth noting.
If spring came but once a century instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I don’t wish to make this brief post yet another cliché about seasons. Many a poem, story, greeting card, symphony, exist to pay mind to such worldly revolution. With this Spring though, I am reminded of my seasons far from “home.”
It was summer when I discovered Dublin, and waded through thousands protesting a G8 conference. Also in summer I found Bologna and my bride, I found Germany and its possibilities, Paris and its tourists, and Dieppe with its crashing waves and subtle character. It was also summer, with a taste of autumn, when I traveled through Germany, experienced Prague and found I could communicate and thrive in a foreign language.
I found myself deep in a Northern German winter when learning about renewable energy and what some think will be the future of our existence on this earth. And in the last three seasons, I have lived in three major cities, absorbed three unique flavors of German culture, and experienced the three members of my family learn, discover, and explore.
Odeonsplatz in central Munich
I am sure I could have, and would have, had similarly enlightening and impressionable experiences without living these seasons abroad, but I was abroad. This is special.
The next step will take us to Zurich, where I will work as a correspondent for World Radio Switzerland. This will be yet another city, and yet another summer. But the time there will, I am sure, be remarkable and memorable.
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Frequent visitors to AnthonyGanzer.com may notice I often tend to take and post images with a similar profile. I often like to focus on the sun, thus giving a silhouette effect to the man-made architecture below. I am not rebelling against modern marvels. When I look into the sky, and see how clouds are lit with an embossed, pure glow, I feel compelled to focus on the glow.
The sky, in instances like this, tends to act like a remarkably painted backdrop to man’s attempts at greatness. This backdrop is to me the focal point, and I haven’t regretted an image of this kind yet.