The Hill

I can see the top. It doesn't look far, yet I can't bike up anymore. I must walk my bicycle while trying to catch my breath. I lied, NOW I can see the top. It is like a magical never ending hill. Finally after 20 minutes of up, I am as far as the road can take me. I lay my bike into the tall grass and begin to trudge through it. Slowly I can feel the water seep through my moccasins and moisten my pants. Only 10 more meters of tall grass, then short mowed lawn, all up. So close to the top of this mini mountain. Nothing near the size of a mountain, but in comparison to the 'hills' in wisconsin it may be called a mountain for all i'm concerned. What a cold morning. Usually when the sun is shining I am comfortable, but my wet legs and the sudden appearance of wind doesn't help. Most of Switzerland is windless, the hills are good for something. Finally the top. It was worth it. The Alps align one side of the horizon, the Junta mountains align another, with beautiful hills and country sides and villages scattered between. Beautiful. Sit in the wet grass, you only live once and who knows when I will get such a clear day to view the Alps next. Observe. The wind chills me through as the water soaks through my layers to my sensitive skin. Time to leave. Drag myself through the short grass, and then the long grass. My moccasins drip with water when I lift my feet. Finally arrive to my bicycle. Mount, and fly. Not a single peddle is needed, I can fly home, free as an american in switzerland.

Last weekend Rita and Fred visited (my mothers cousins). It was quite enjoyable, we went on a long walk and a wonderful fondue dinner. On Sunday they drove to Murten with me, a small town between the french and german parts of switzerland. It is a very beautiful town, with a lot of history. There are walls surrounding the old town with a large clock tower enterance. The walls were built in 1213 or something crazy long ago. There is so much history in europe it is wonderful :-)