Fourteen people are dead. Murdered, on the Ramblas -- where I'd taken many an afternoon and evening stroll -- with my then growing family.
[Two smallish versions of some peaceful pictures I took there -- six years ago, this week -- in August of 2011, appear at right. Two of literally. . . thousands.]
To this moment, Mr. Trump has not yet contacted the family of the murdered Heather Heyer (one of his own fellow citizens, murdered by a home-grown white supremacist terrorist, in just the same way that the people of Barcelona have been killed and maimed, this day) -- but we all know he will be all over the place, in calling this mayhem in Spain out -- as terror.
That is disgusting. And so from him. . . I will look away. . . . I will look across, and away -- to the azure Mediterranean coast, and the '96 Olympic Village beaches -- and the soft warm salt air, there -- and think of my friends. I will call them, email them and text them -- to let them know I care. And I will hope that my thoughts and meditations find them well, even in their sadness. That is my hope. Hope.
नमस्ते
2 comments:
Barcelona, not Barcelonetta...
Thanks Richie -- no, when I'm there I stay in "Little Barcelona" -- on the beachfront, in the three flat with my friends.
The locals call the neighborhood -- about a five minute walk from the Ramblas... "Barcelonetta"... the 1996 Olympic Village is a stone's throw from that public beach, where drum circles, hot tapas, cold sangria and dance contests rule the humid nights...
So thanks -- but I meant what I wrote...
Namaste -- do stop back...
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