Mole Day Fun

In honor of (yeeks) Mole Day: java Whack-A-Mole.

Also, I am convinced, now, that home is the place that you return to after leaving. Which is a sort of convoluted way of saying that you have to leave someplace to truly appreciate it, and also that I’m glad to be back in Copenhagen. The church bells in Luxembourg played a lovely trick where the first two notes of the quarterly chime were the same two notes that begin the chime from the R dhus tower, and so every fifteen minutes I broke away from whatever I was doing to feel just a little incomplete. That, and the sidewalks there bore a suspicious resemblance to the bike lanes here, which had me looking over my shoulder every three seconds expecting to be flattened.

So I feel properly at home here, at last, when I’m over halfway done with my stay. In a way this helps to make up for losing bits and pieces of hominess from the town where I grew up – this summer, I was unpleasantly surprised to find that I no longer knew my way around town without thinking about it a little, and that street scenes imposed themselves upon me in the ways only an unfamiliar scene can. In other ways, it’s twice as sad – now I have two cities to forget.

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