wind says hello

"viento del sur, o lluvia de abril
quiero saber donde debo ir"

                                                    lyrics of sui genesis


(southern wind, or april rain
i want to know where i should go)





cycling a bike is similar to meditating
in that it allows living close to the centre-of-oneself,
one's  movements become mechanical, irreflexive
- also similar to taking a nap or letting one's mind wander -
the miles roll;
a headland appears, jutting into the ocean,
and recedes.
a curve ahead
you follow it, first with your eyes
then with your handlebars and bike
and the centre of yourself all the time speaks
and you listen.


i had mainly been following the main road and began to feel itchy inside because of all the cars and cars and lorries zooming past, and all the advertising boards speaking of shops and hotels and things to sell.
following the little winding coast road then - hugging the sea up close - you enter the little villages where only a group of old men are sitting in the shade in amongst decrepit old buildings sighing beside the flat expanse of water, shimmering out to some lazy blue wiggly island shapes - parcel of almighty oh-shin - lapping, a little lap - and you think "Oh modernity you have done many things for us but, my boy, you have a lot to answer for"


Split came at the right moment then, with its cafe-lined Riva full of people sitting at the cafes or walking past the cafes and the nearby Marjan penninsula, where there were pine trees in which to sleep, where there were squirrels chasing each other round the trunks or people rock-climbing in the sun, or the view at night from the flag-fluttering top over the spread of city lights.  i said: if someone had never conceived of city lights before, this would sure be beautiful, and even though they have conceived of city lights before,  it sure is beautiful.
or awaking in the morning, yet to stir, and feeling a bird come to perch on my sleeping bag - the bird maybe thinking i was a bright orange fallen log - and singing his or her songs and hopping around atop of me laying still stock-still.

are you, perchance, a romantic?

- oh, yes, feelings and emotions are very important for me


are you, mayhap, an existentialist?

- oh, yes, existence very important.


art thou, perhchace, fond of using archaic language?

- aye.



the sea had stopped sparkling
the raindrops began falling;
the sea became a steely mass of hebridean cold,
and the wind stiffened.


wind says hello
i say 'oh'
   can i go on?
   the road is long.

'no - know
that i must halt
your pro
gress'

wind and rain in duo chime
'hush, be still - only listen -
all things i wil whisper to you in time'




what else matters to me,
having my body and soul?

- loose translation of words of Juan Ramon Jimenez

("Que me importa nada
teniendo mi cuerpo y alma!")