A nice one


A friend recently told me he’d love to read a „nice, feel-good“ article for once. Since he’s of the opinion I’m too sarcastic at times. (Really? Am I?) So, my dear friend, this one is for you!

The problem is, I don’t have a clue how to write an article that’s A) nice, B) not boring and C) neither sarcastic nor vicious, has nothing to do with politics, religion or Donald Trump.

Let’s see, I’ve got 79 words! Darn, still at least 300 to go! Sorry, my friend, I’m falling back into my usual behaviour of NOT being nice. I’ll try to do better!

Of course there have been incidents in my life that were funny, joyous or just plain “nice”. But nothing right now strikes me worth writing about. (Alright, I admit it, I can’t pinpoint on anything I haven’t already written about!)

Maybe … maybe I could just write about of what makes me happy!? That’s nice, right? (Apart from shopping, of course!) I’m talking about the things you can’t buy! (Even though a new pair of shoes makes me VERY happy! Damnit! There it is again! Evil M, evil evil M!)

Sitting here in my library corner, with my relaxing cup of Earl Grey to get into nice writing mood, I close my eyes and let my mind wander, thinking about the immaterial things that make me happy.

Standing at the railing of a ferry or cruise ship, looking out to the ocean or lake, having the wind tousle my hair, watching the waves crash at the hull of the ship, smelling the salty air and water … and I remember! The wonderful transatlantic crossing on the Queen Mary II from New York to Southampton with nothing else than the endless ocean around me, the beautiful trip from Vancouver to Vancouver Island, with all those small islands passing by. The 45 minute ferry ride to my favourite North Sea Island Borkum, which I always spend on deck, no matter the weather. And the boat trip on our very own Carinthian lake Millstätter See with the mountains and woods on one side and soft green hills and lakeside villages on the other.

I remember swimming in Lake Powell with the sun going down, surrounded by those beautiful glowing red rocks, majestically shining down on me. I could have stayed forever.

I remember the hidden orchard in Arizona, closed in by steep rocks, where you could pick your own apples and peaches, the most delicious I have ever tasted. And I remember the small oasis by the small river in Bolivia, surrounded by the Lithium desert, where everything was lush and beautiful.

I remember strolling around Venice in November, the fog circling my feet, touristless streets and the peace that came over me.

And I just love to spend evenings in a nice high-rise hotel room, with the big windows overlooking the streets, just cuddling on a sofa or comfy chair with a cup of hot tea or cocoa in the dark, looking outside as the world passes by, staring at the thousands of lights, wondering what other people are doing. Or just …

My friend, you know who you are. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it, remembering … remembering what makes me happy. Guess this will have to find a continuation one day …

(Pic courtesy of my sister, showing the Millstätter See in Carinthia, my childhood swimming haunt in summer and ice skating fun in winter)


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