Wandering With Wally

I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list.

Susan Sontag

Wandering With Wally

Wally is a tiny walrus

A plastic one at that

He doesn’t speak, but he captures hearts-

My silent diplomat

I have to carry him everywhere -

His feet were not made for walking

He soulfully stares as we wander the world

from the corner of my pocket.

He probably wishes it was cooler

In the places we go together,

But he doesn’t complain; he just goes along

No matter what the weather.

A diplomat, my Wally is -

He’s always making friends

So I always take him with me

When I go to explore new lands.

Overlooking the Atlantic on the way to A Guarda in Spain along the Portuguese El Camino

Resting on a cliff in the Cies Islands National Park in Galicia

Wally carrying a little burden on the Portuguese Way…

Sitting on a signpost along the Portuguese El Camino.

In Italy - sitting on a terrace overlooking the mountains in Emilia Romagna

Resting among the leaves on a sidewalk in Fort Worth

Wandering through a unique historic district of Fort Worth, Wally posed on an outdoor tap dance stage, and beneath the eggplant at a community garden.

We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.

George Bernard Shaw

I’ve been traveling a lot this fall - to Europe for three weeks, then a quick trip to Indiana and then Texas for my mom’s 80th birthday. Everywhere I go, I bring Wally with me. I found him in a rest area parking lot on a road trip a couple of years ago - he was a little dirty, a little banged up, but adorable. (Click Here to see the first Wally post). Over the past couple years, he’s been stuffed in my luggage, backpack; purse, pockets and/or camera bag - sometimes I just carry him in my hand while I’m walking or running. I’m always looking for photo ops for him while I’m out wandering. He’s very photogenic. He lightens my mood and makes other people smile. Maybe they just think I’m crazy. Either way, it’s ok - I learn a lot by trying to put him into a scene; to have a little fun with perspective, to inject a sense of humor into my travels. I hope you enjoy the results.

Thank you so much for being here! I will see you next week!

Wistfully watching the sun rise over the mountains in Emilia-Romagna, Italy.

Return of the Sandhill Crane

There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds, the ebb and flow of the tides, the folded bud ready for the spring. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature - the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter.

Rachel Carson (The Sense of Wonder)

Every year hundreds of sandhill cranes return to these fields. It’s a small town, and a small area of a small town, and they have come here for as long as anyone can remember.

Feathers so fine and smooth along the neck scallop at the shoulder then lengthen across the back until at the tail, each one is long and distinct, gracefully rounding.

They know I am here.

Everybody grooming for the camera, while the bodyguard keeps the paparazzi away. (me, anthropomorphizing)

Two heads are better than one.

It’s not exactly graceful when they come in for a landing…

She’s skeptical…

But they do manage to land…

With so many birds in one place, sometimes feathers get ruffled - these birds were just walking around minding their own business when a couple decided to stir up some trouble.

So many giant birds in one place. It’s magical.

The earth was dancing with the cranes, and the low sun, and the wind and sky.

Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

I know the sandhill cranes come here every year (if you want to know more about them, click here), but I don’t always go to see them, even though it is only a few miles from my house. This year, an overpass on the road I usually take is being repaired, and the detour takes me past the fields where they land along their migration route. So, I’ve seen them nearly every day for the past few weeks. I kept thinking I should stop and get some pictures, so one warm day last week I brought my camera and a tripod along with me. It was hard to decide where to focus. There were literally hundreds of birds in the shorn fields. I hope I chose well - and you enjoy the pictures.

Thank you so much for being here! I will see you next week!

Fall in Fanano (Italy)

Life is a combination of magic and pasta.

Federico Fellini

Fanano is a small town on the edge of Emilia-Romagna, just north of the Tuscan border. We were here just after the fall harvest of grapes and grains.

The first day, I wandered around the nearby farms.

A highland bull along my route just kept on chewing while he watched me pass (although it’s hard to be sure he could actually see me).

Not far to the north is the city of Modena, famous for its balsamic vinegar and fast cars- also the former home of opera singer, Luciano Pavarotti. I took a picture of the sign to help me find my way back to where I was staying.

The season was still changing while I was here - bees were sluggish, not flying from the Queen Anne’s lace, even when I was very close with my camera.

The vines were going dormant, with the grapes already harvested.

The sun, with all those planets revolving around it and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as if it had nothing else in the universe to do.

Galileo Galilei

I loved wandering here, seeing the views of many small communities below me nestled in the hills.

Later in the week, the city of Fanano had an Autumn food festival, where local restaurants came to make dishes unique to the region; bands played, and lots of local wine was consumed.

The weather was unusually warm for October and it brought out the crowd. I’ve been to this town many times, but I’ve never seen so many people in the streets - and they were all eating, taking and laughing.

The band was really entertaining, inviting kids to come up and play instruments and involving the entire crowd in their music.

In another square some women reenacted the old method of stomping grapes to squeeze out their juice, while other local women sang in accompaniment.

Just after the women began to sing and dance, the sky turned dark and the air temperature began to drop. A sudden hail and rainstorm sent us all running for cover.

A rose after the hailstorm, surprisingly undamaged.

A view of the Corsini household (my husband, Tom’s, cousin) from above on our last day here.

Every house guest brings you happiness. Some when they arrive, and some when they are leaving.

Confucius

We had a great time here with Tom’s family, who took us in, fed us, and spent the week hiking, shopping and touring the local towns and parks with us. I feel really fortunate to know these generous people. Staying with them was a welcome rest after two weeks of hiking and moving around from place to place every day in Portugal and Spain. I hope I can return the favor someday.

Thank you so much for being here. I will see you next week!