New Life

We did not work in the forest today in the afternoon because this tiny new life felt that it was grown up enough to get out of the forest stream and ponds and go into the forest to live life. Most paths we and the locals use are between the stream / ponds and the forest where they were going so there were thousands of them crossing the paths (which looked like the ground was moving).

It started in the afternoon and both we and the locals stopped all heavy traffic to let them cross safely and spread throughout the forest. We were told that they will be done by tomorrow morning.

I took a picture of one on a palm of one of our volunteer's hand.


End of working day

The rain is barely over but the food and the wine are waiting and the village news of the day must be discussed and made sense of so screw all that wetness, wool spinners deserve a dinner break and a couple of glasses of good wine. They start singing afterwards and keep spinning that wool.

In Moldova.


Refugee crisis

Moldova's National Statistics Bureau published its report on the numbers of refugees currently living in the country. I laughed. Moldova is the poorest country in Europe.

Afganistan — 17
Angola — 1
Armenia — 20
Azerbaijan — 6
Georgia — 4
India — 1
Iraq — 23
Iran — 2
Kazakhstan — 2
Kyrgyzstan — 4
Liberia — 1
Nepal - 1
Nigeria — 1
Pakistan — 1
Russia — 8
Syria — 206
Sudan - 8
Tajikistan — 4
Turkey — 2
Turkmenistan — 2

Here's again the window, where nobody sleep

Today I read a poem by Marina Tsvetaeva (a Russian poet) which started like this:

Here's again the window,
Where nobody sleep.
Maybe they're drinking wine, or
Maybe they're simply sitting.
Or maybe they two can't break
The union of their hands.

Then I decided to go to my photos and find the first photo with a window in it. It turned out to be this one, taken in Singapore:

I wonder what would that poem have turned out like if she had been looking at these. Would it have been much different or pretty much the same?