NANO ZEN

photo by @unclr

Everyone loves to cuddle something furry, warm, and gentle. For some of us it is our companion beside us, lover or pet, preferably not both one and the same.

The mistral in France might be mistaken by the foreigner to be some archaic reference for a minstrel or bard, but in fact refers to a strong cool wind. In winter it is can be cold and harsh, while in summer it’s refreshing, blowing away the humid heat for a time, leaving clear blue and sunny skies.

Views from the top of Cannes following a mistral are beautifully clear and sharp. There is a vantage point from the Voie Julia that looks out over Cannes south to the sea, west towards the Estérèl range, and north towards Grasse and the start of the Alpes. Wonderful place to sit and watch sunsets.

I was watching Stealing Beauty last night. Lovely film set in rural Italy. At one moment though I paused the DVD to fetch a drink from the kitchen and stopped to gaze out the window into the court yard. Only the very tops of the trees were lit by the setting sun, as it feel into eclipse behind my apartment building. Yet in this twilight I noticed a falling white feather and wondered at the random grace of its decent, only to disappear amongst the gravel stones.

It then struck me as sad how much of our natural green spaces fall to the advance of man and machine. Much like virginity, once taken, never to be reclaimed. All that remains are the small islands of green and calm. Decorative after thoughts of a city or town, where once there was field or forest.

People come in droves to the French Riviera for the summer sunshine, azur blue sea, and overall beauty of the region. Then I wonder how beautiful this region was before the invention of sun tan lotion, camper vans, and tourism. Instead of a natural Zen paradise, man creates a Zen garden in it’s place and calls it beautiful.

By “Thinking Cool” I’m not talking about the iPhone. Nice piece of kit, but I won’t abandon the SFR service I’ve been happy with for 12 years just to get one; switching to Orange France just ain’t worth it.

In my apartment, all I have in my bedroom to keep cool during summer nights is a squeaky ceiling fan (Casablanca fans take note). So last night I sat in bed with my laptop and watched Mystery, Alaska. Nice chilly underdog hockey movie. Just the sort of thing to remind a Canadian of home, beautiful vistas (and no, not the Windows shite), lots of snow, and hockey.

Of course I couldn’t keep the laptop in my lap; throws too much heat, when the idea is to think cool thoughts. Though it would make for a good bed warmer in winter, Baka does a good job of that year round. Soon as I open the bed and start to get ready, Baka jumps up and finds a place in the centre nuzzled against the pillows. Of course he gives me a disgruntled look as soon as I slide him over a tad so that we can both comfortably sit and watch.