Passing memories.

I am once again in Munich, and am staying in my favorite hotel near where my Oma lived. I am here saying goodbye to her dear spirit, as burial maintenance is so expensive that she could only be buried for 8 years.

She was a chain smoker, and I was so allergic that I found it best and most polite to excuse myself to run most every day. I would explore this road and that path, and came across one of my most romantic sights on one of my runs. So today I threw on my shoes, and went running through some old paths by where my grandmothers home was. It was a cute place that overlooked a large wheat field that when ripe would sway under the wind and look like waves of a great pale ocean. I loved it as she did, for that vista was the reason for her home there.

A few large cranes and many many new homes are now built upon the field I came to love so much. My heart just dropped. The smells of ripe wheat are all gone. A little stand of trees that defiantly stood in the middle of the field that I used to love to run through has also vanished, and is now the location of a small grocery.

This is just a very subtle reminder that all things precious always seem to be temporal as well. I suppose they must be in order to be precious. So eventually all the wheat fields and stands of trees must become a side road to someone else's home, or even become a convenience store parking lot. But I... I will never forget how the fields rocked under the summer breeze, and the earthy smells while running through them will always live in my heart.


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