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A Memory Of Sea Spray by Threetails (critique requested)
When resting by that ancient sea
as often pilgrims do,
The spray at once assaulted me
In foams of briny dew.
And in between my fingers slipped
A thousand tiny shad
As slick as silver dollars
And as tenuously had.
Wherein the pilgrim recounts the wonder of at last finding the sea.
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Oddly enough, hiking old pilgrim routes has become a bit of a niche pastime nowadays and Santiago de Compostela is a popular one, though the stops for prayer and ablution have been replaced with stops for beer and photo-ops. In a way though, it's still kind of in the original spirit since pilgrimage was an adventure for a lot of people (hence the Canterbury Tales).
That'd be a lot of clicking on Streetview though.
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Lots of clicking, but I'd move faster than walking! My problem here was that I have a near photographic memory when it comes to exploring places. That's first reason why I didn't go on this pilgrimage... At some point I got concerned about the pile of useless graphical information which would dwell in my cortex, slowing down my daily job related thoughts.
Second reason is, I develop a strange nostalgia for new places I visit. Once I've been somewhere, that place and time goes into past, where everything is beautiful and perfect, unlike the current moment, which is a constant struggle with work, entropy and cash flow. I didn't want my pilgrimage to become a sweet, happy memory - and to constantly remind me how things were better last year, last week, last hour, ten seconds ago...
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kishniev
Makes me think, how once I stranded myself on outskirts of Santiago de Compostela, and thought about going to reverse pilgrimage of St. James... Oh, the wonders of Google Street View.