ephemeral, or: this fleeting blue moment


An underwater moment from this week: jellyfish in motion.

I haven’t been diving, but I visited the botanical garden near here, which also is home to an aquarium. Watching the jellyfish was both amazing and dreamlike, like watching a different dimension of life.

Didn’t really expect the photo to work, but somehow the automatic setting captured that moment. And beautiful to read the photo challenge note on photography:

“One thing I love about taking photos is that it forces me to be present — to consider and appreciate now, before now evaporates and becomes then.” – Krista

Here’s the stream of “ephemeral” photos + the call: ephemeral

And a fleeting quote:

“Life is made up of a collection of moments that are not ours to keep… All of this is yours, yet none of it is. How could it be? Look around you. Everything is fleeting.”
– Rachel Brathren

koi fish sky


This week I visited the botanical garden near here – haven’t been there since ages. So nice to walk underneath palm trees and watch koi fish…

…and see exotic flowers when looking up:


It’s something I started to do earlier this month: to try and add little getaways to the week. Last week, I visited an art exhibition, and it was on the way to the museum that I saw the sign of the botanical garden.

So at least that is one good side effect of the current chain of treatments: those mini-trips and the precious colored moments they bring. Not sure what is next. There was a memorial place on the way, too, but I guess something on the more cheerful side might be better for now.

when things fall apart…


Recently, after going through the next round of ups and downs of chemotherapy, I returned to reading “When things fall apart” by Pema Chodron. Here are 2 quotes that spoke to me:

“We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”

And this one, which also includes “fresh”, the theme of the current photo challenge and of yesterday’s post:

“To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest. To live fully is to be always in no-man’s-land, to experience each moment as completely new and fresh”

The flowers in the photo above, they are from the garden here. The photo is from last Saturday, the day after chemo. Sunday was overcast and grey, but today it’s sunny again. I think of going for a drive, to go for a walk in a different, new place: somewhere fresh. And while typing this, the news came up that a German airplane crashed in the French Alps. Such terrible news. So many lives.

And the world, these days: it feels like everything is happening at once. It’s good it’s yoga this evening, and that the Paracetamol seems to keep the odd wandering pain/nerve impulses from the chemo at bay.

a fresh try


An early morning moment for the current weekly photo challenge “Fresh”. For me, there is always something special about the freshness of the day, when the rising sun is reflected in the dewdrops.

Here’s the stream of “Fresh” photos + the call: Fresh

And a “fresh” quote:

“I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.”
– J.B. Priestley

solar eclipse morning


today: solar eclipse
today: chemo #6
today: friday
today: day 162 after diagnosis
today: sunny

Today the sky brought a sky show of its own kind: solar eclipse! It was visible here in South Germany from half past 9 to half 12, and the skies were open – but I was inside at that time with others in the oncology centre, getting the next chemo. We saw the effects of the eclipse together, though, with the view outside turning shaded in a strange way. And with the nurses joking about whose eyesight might be worth to risk for a direct look, while we shared stories of the last visible solar eclipse in 1999.

a bit more about the days 1-162, here: life as a journey: c is for cancer, and for courage, too