Thursday, June 1, 2017

May Flowers - I

Last winter I have definitely worked too much. I devoted myself to the new professional experience, leaving no time to anything else but work and, of course, the family. Surpisingly, notwithstanding the opportunities offered by the surrounding countryside, I have even disdained my beloved mountain bike and now I'm asking how was it possible that I took back exactly the same body shape that I had just before moving to Austria.
So, in the attempt to regain control of my health, beside sitting again on the saddle, I committed myself to a daily walk along the Murrad: a narrow cycling path that goes along the banks of the Mur river, quietly flowing just behind the buildings of my company. In these days, on the sides of this country road, beside the sandwich that I'm used to buy to the Imbiss-Bus parking in front of the company's main gate, I can also find enough "bread for my photographic theet". A good reason for taking this solitary walk every noon.
The quality of the pictures is what I can afford with my mobile. I decided not to turn them to Black and White as usual. It would be a crime. And, if possible, I would like to keep the pace of one picture a day for the whole month of June.  Let's see. 

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Friday, May 12, 2017


I'm taking a day off. I couldn't spend it in office. It doesn't happen every day to pass a milestone like this.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

May's bursting

Few minutes between lunch and first afternoon meeting. Enough for a walk along the Mur with a sandwich in the hands.

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Chez Tibo ...

Flying back to Vienna after a week spent in a lab. A though time but rewarding. I only have a regret for having not enjoyed the beauty of Cote d'Azur.

There will always be a next time.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Sunday, April 23, 2017


My luggage is ready; flights tickets rest in the bag; a taxy is booked in less than a hour and my kids are waiting for the goodbyes. It's time to run through the checklist, lock the parcel and go. There's no escape.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Feeling shipwrecked

It's been a nice sunny day, here in Graz. So much that few hours after sunset, some of the kids living around are still playing in the common playground between the large white buildings of the viertel of Eggenberg district where we came to live. I can hear them counting out-loud: it must be the Austrian variant of hide and seek (the Italian Nascondino).
Notwithstanding the nice weather, instead of running out with my bike I've spent all the afternoon on this PC, trying to install a web development platform that should help me making a quantum leap toward a brand new website. The site has not been maintained for the last two years. Too many things to be done. Now, pictures, presentations and rendering of the website look a bit passee, outdated. If I want to keep paying not in vain those few euros for the hosting services, then I need to refurbish it a little. That's why I started from the container.
To my disappointment, after a moment of pure euphoria, when I managed to complete the installation, I faced the first blocking issues and broke my nose in front of the usability of this platform. And it hurts so much that I feel like a broken boat, stranded on a beach.
I'm seriously thinking to write again the code of my website on my own. But tomorrow I'll go surely cycling. I'll take some pictures of the blooming countryside around the Mur river. The web can wait.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Fagus Sylvatica

Beside colors, I should be posting the deafening silence of a beech forest: the noise of the wind whistling through the treetops, the crackling of the dead leaves under the tires of my mountain bike, the dump sound of my palm touching the smooth bark of these noble giants.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Definitely here

Sometimes I'm really tempted to post the colors ...

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Some planets left

According to recent cosmic observations, there seems to be many more bodies like Earth than we actually thought, out there.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

An Expensive Pizza

Eventually, after nearly eleven months moving in and out Graz with my car, notwithstanding my best efforts to avoid speed-traps, checkpoints, laser-beams and the omnipresent patrol wardens, notwithstanding my application in searching and studying parking zones maps and matching free parking timings, I managed to get fined by the local administration for the silliest reason. But it was my fault and I can't blame anyone, S*t happens!
In the end the pizza that I took with my son last Friday was not really worth the total costs. I would have better make a good pasta at home and watch a movie on the sofa.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Alone on the pier

Courseulles Sur Mer, Normandy, on the bay of Seine, exactly on the same strip of sand where more than seventy years ago the Overlord operation began, on the D-day.

I've been attending a meeting after another till some minutes past six. Once the last of our french guest had just gone home, I said to my trip companion I would have driven to the sea, no matter what he thought. I wanted to smell the sea and listen even for a while the sound of the crashing waves. So, without dropping our bags we've jumped on our car and headed north, driving through the naked countryside, till reaching this place when the night had already covered everything with darkness. Without spending too much time looking around, we entered a restaurant standing right on the beach. One of those that our colleagues from Caen talked us so well about.

After a completely uninspiring dinner, winning the reluctance of my colleague, I walked down to the channel and there, having left him looking for a shelter from the strong wind, I took alone a walk along the wooden pier that leads to the harbor entrance. At the end of it a small lighthouse was weakly indicating the end of the path and the beginning of the sea. But I hadn't noticed before that the tide was low, so low as only on the Channel it can be. I leaned out of the fence only to realize that there was just sand and some scattered tufts of momentarily dry seaweed. The only living sign of presence of the sea was a feeble sound of the surf, out in the dark.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Monday, February 20, 2017

Slender Bodies

Notwithstanding I have read Robert Pirsig more than once and I promised too early my son I would have toured him along the american outback, I have never had a motorbike and still have a moment of hesitation when I'm close to this kind of "dream" for many.

I'm not sure. I still think I would start from a Vespa.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Valentine in Normandy

Young and less-young guys queuing up with patience and resignation in front of the last flowers shop open in town. Empty shelves in the pastry shops. All the bars and restaurants full booked with couples eating oysters and drinking Calvados. And two stranded guys going around in search for something else to eat.

(Made and sent from my mobile)

Monday, February 13, 2017

Wind, salt and ...

The call of a seagull breaking the silence. A flock of screaming sea birds fighting for a piece of baguette left in a waste basket. The sun rising behind the tossing masts of the boats moored along the channel-harbor of Caen. A clear blue sky. The smell of salt coming with the wind. I couldn't ask for more this morning.

(Made and sent from my mobile.)