cosas que pinchan

La Maroma's benevolently rounded peak gazes down on Malaga, and stands as the tallest mountain in all of the province. At over two thousand meters it even boasts snow in the winter on occasion. Although nowhere near the highest point in Spain, its terrain is typical for the warm southern climates and within a few steps I was struck by the inhospitality of the inhabitants. 

Very few trees grow on Tejada (its other name)'s slopes, and rocks dominate the landscape mixed with greyish-green plants most of which look on the surface soft and inviting but with closer examination or a gentle touch reveal their true thorny nature. The trees that do grow must be protected when they are young from the wild mountain goats, and are so encircled by menacing wire fences. 

On the day of my climb a vicious wind blew from the sea so strongly that at moments it was all I could do to stand. I arrived back at the house weary, sore and with a hand full of tiny splinters from a fall on one of the mountain's prickly dwellers.

As I reflected on my hike, I thought of the things that grew naturally in this part of the world and then I thought also on how further down the mountain, near the sea, they build big plastic greenhouses and are able to grow a multitude of plants year-round, exporting mangos and avocados among other fruits. Wonderful fruits and vegetables grow happily but not naturally--it takes a lot of care and work. What grows naturally, left alone, are all manner of weeds and plants that harm.

A few short weeks before I stood gazing over the hazy land of Malaga from the rugged slopes of La Maroma a woman was laid to rest in a niche after forty-one years of tilling the soil of the souls of one small city. She died seeing mostly natural plants still dominating the landscape, hearts unconcerned with producing fruit. It can be weary, thankless work in the blazing sun beneath La Maroma as in many a city all over the world. Yet as a sower of eternal seeds I must work on while it is still today, knowing that in His time and through His grace even the harshest ground may bloom.

boasting

(shout out to Voskamp for the reminder to practice Thankfulness)

i'm leaving on a jet plane tomorrow and as i struggle through the mess of emotions that is my heart i am reminded that giving thanks for all His faithfulness reminds me that He is still with me.
here are just a few that come to mind:

1. for the opportunity to face my fears and practice driving a manual car
2. learning German and experiencing life as a second-language speaker that gives me a better perspective on the lives of my ESL friends
3. time to spend talking with friends as they face difficulties
4. living life as a German--from speaking the language in shops to doing zumba in the community hall on stage to living with a German family
5. beautiful fall days filled with hikes all over the lovely countryside
6. spending time with friends and family here
7. finding daily bread (and lots of cheese and chocolate!) as i helped with the little jobs He sent my way
8. realizing anew how blessed i am with people who care about me, even though i am not geographically near them
9. a chance to again travel and visit dear hearts who live throughout the world
10. constant reminders that He holds tomorrow in His hands

"If you brag, brag of this and this only:
That you understand and know me.
    I’m God, and I act in loyal love."  ~Jeremiah 9

fahren

do not be misled by the unimpressive population of Basel Stadt (under 200k) to think that driving in Basel is easy. in the small area i routinely search for parking places (literally, it's part of "little Basel") i have come to intersections where it seems that every direction is marked with a blaring red do-not-enter emblem. which leads me to scratch my head and wonder why i was able to get there in the first place. or, how anyone accesses those streets since i swear it had the same sign at the other end...and i have not even mentioned the trams, whose horns continually remind enterprising drivers that in the bulk department it is better not to chance a contest. narrow streets have trams running in both directions, nonchalant pedestrians who conveniently forget they do not own the street, cars parking, lorries/semis unloading and that is all normal.
but now i come to the bicyclists. in all this daily mayhem i have watched bicyclists who seem to be going for medals of honor compete in the chaos. applauding them, i marveled at the bravery it would take to join in, and gazed sympathetically as some voiced their disgust with the actions of drivers. and so, because sanity is overrated, today i decided to attempt a journey across what i now refer to as the city by the river styx. i had not even made it out of the forest when i had already been chased by a doberman and yelled at in German (believe me, it feels more serious) for bicycling on what i can only assume was a pedestrian-only path.
now, you must realize that in this part of the world stop signs are a rarity. generally, every intersection is yield-to-the-person-from-the-right. which means, of course, that people barrel through glancing only right to make sure that way is clear. barely glancing. which puts bicycles at the mercy of their eyesight, which can leave something to be desired. fortunately, i made it to my destination with only a few blocks walking.
on the return trip i stumbled into the world of the underground velobahn, something every bicyclist should experience. there exists this underground highway for bicycles in Basel. zooming along next to railroad tracks under what i can only assume were building and streets it ran for miles, surfacing every so often for its riders to wait patiently until the little red bicycle turned green, allowing them to cross the street. in utter joy that here were no trams, crazy drivers and angry pedestrians, i let myself be swept allow until the usual autobahn malady occurred: the highway ended and i had no idea where i was. but i had enjoyed the experience and, with a little help from a city map and eventually red bike signs informing me the way to get where i wanted to be, i made it back. an older, wiser rider with the velobahn experience under her belt.