I have resorted to using a German title for this blog because it is all about bubbles, and I actually want you to read it instead of skipping over to another entry. But lest there be any confusion, Blasen is German for Bubbles.
Carolin and I played with bubbles this afternoon. It has been a very long time since I have done anything entertaining with bubbles other than gallantly spit them toward the bride and groom as they make their soggy way toward the getaway car. Years, I think, since I have actually taken the time to observe them as they make their graceful way to the sky and then, with an understated *pop*, cease to exist. I was thrilled today with the reflection that it is one of the most beautiful things to watch that stately progress from the initial formation of the bubble to its gentle termination. They are all purity and delicacy. If one looks very closely, one can see the soap on the surface cluster and swirl and eventually begin to dissipate. Not that you should begin a campaign to stem the tide of untimely bubble death at the undersized hands of our youth, for yet another of the many charms of the bubble consists in the very laughter that chasing the glimmering containers of air affords. They live the briefest and yet the most charmed of lives, and I will always be thankful to them for entertaining me and my companion for nearly a half an hour.
Ahh, how to end this eulogy? I can't think of a way at the moment, and alas, a moment is all that I have allotted to blogging for the evening. So there it stands. The End.