11. Trees, fallen leaves and memories

The rebinding of the roof of their dwelling thus complete, the members of the community  gathered in a circle to bring to mind the effort they had all just made together that day. They stood for a few moments, reflecting on the warmth and majesty that the roots of the great oak trees brought to their home and on the skills and sensitivity they had each shown in their labour. Exchanging nods and hand clasps to express their mutual gratitude, the circle broke, and each member returned to his or her own affairs, in the hour that separated them from their evening meal.

Brbr decided to go alone for a short walk in the woods nearby, the atmosphere of the late, moist autumn still shaping her thoughts and animating her soul mood. Mixed-up, musty odours arose from the red, over-ripe berries on the branches out of reach from the birds; from the decaying leaves lying in jumbled hues on the forest floor; and from the mushrooms poking through the soil or sprouting from rotting stumps, here and there. Brbr felt a reminder once again of how life at this time each year was safely returned to the earth, soon to be snug beneath the velvet-white down of winter’s snows to come.

Continue reading

Posted in Mark, Observing Brussels, The Stories of Brussels Trees | Leave a comment

Tree 4. Collar de perro

20160930_112457

Era un fastidio tener que empezar el colegio cuando hacía tan buen tiempo. El sol le calentaba la cabeza igual que el casco que mamá le obligaba a ponerse cuando iba en bicicleta. La mochila le pesaba y botaba sobre su espalda mientras andaba.

– ¡Rodrigo, no  te quedes atrás! ¡Vamos!-

Continue reading

Posted in Eva, Observing Brussels, The Stories of Brussels Trees | Leave a comment

Tree 3. What’s best for you.

img_6019

  • Right, you hold it here and I’ll go around it.
  • I can’t see where your hand is, it’s too dark. Why don’t we do this during the day?
  • You know why, we have to be discreet. It’s our own private guerrilla I told you. I don’t want to jeopardise our anonymity. We’re bringing happiness back to the city!

Continue reading

Posted in Gaelle, The Stories of Brussels Trees | Leave a comment

Tree 2. L’arbre aux baisers

 

hetre

Le hêtre était toujours là, fidèle à son poste. Il a vu toutes les filles que j’ai embrassées et aussi celles qui ne se sont pas laissé faire. Il regardait ce va-et-vient avec indulgence et se demandait sûrement quand j’allais me fixer. Là-dessus, il se trompait. Je n´avais pas du tout l´intention de me fixer. Je faisais dans la quantité, pas dans la qualité. Quand on a seize ans, on n’aspire pas aux amours éternels. On préfère explorer, se prendre des claques, se relever et replonger.

Continue reading

Posted in The Stories of Brussels Trees, Veronika | 1 Comment

Hotel Europa (2)

tmb3_726-xx-imgpicture

El hotel Europa era un bloque rectangular de cemento color beis blanquecino. Estaba situado en el número 107 de la Rue de La  Loi y lo  demolieron el año pasado, después de largo tiempo de abandono.  Me hacía pensar en una prisión por la simetría  cuadriculada y celular de las ventanas de su fachada. Cuando empecé a frecuentarlo, Hotel Europa ya no era su nombre, aunque todo el mundo seguía llamándolo así a pesar del esfuerzo publicitario de la cadena hotelera que lo poseía.

Continue reading

Posted in Eva, Hotel, Observing Brussels | Leave a comment