The world as I see it.

Thoughts on a variety of topics.

11/07/2025

We enjoy having our breakfast outdoors on our 5th-floor balcony.  All is calm.  In the distance, we hear the periodic soft “ding-ding” of a tram passing before the street side of our building.


The temperature is comfortable and the sky is blue.  A squadron of martins is out swooping and diving in search of insects.  A few large seagulls are on their rooftop vantage points, looking around.  Other seagulls are doing shuttle flights to the shoreline a few miles away.  A few doves fly around.


In the distance, I can see an aircraft that has taken off and is headed out over the Mediterranean. 


A group of sparrows is flocked together in an olive tree in the garden below us.   Later, a blackbird will arrive to serenade us.  


All is tranquille. 


Mark Louis Uhrich

Nice France,  11 July 2025

©Copyright 2025,  Mark Louis Uhrich 


Watching the Birds

24/02/2024

It’s a late winter morning, and I’m watching the birds from our living room window.


Pigeons have flown in and are roosting — in a line — on the roof edge of the building across the garden from ours.  In the garden of our residence, a bird feeder is hanging from a tree branch.  The pigeons are watching it, waiting for the cafeteria to open.


A group of African green parakeets arrive and start feasting from the bird feeder.  They take turns — two or three at a time on the hanging bird feeder while the others wait in the tree. The pigeons stay on the roof edge.  Maybe pigeons and parakeets don’t like each other.


When the parakeets have eaten enough, they fly off, and the small birds arrive for their turn at the feeder.  With the parakeets safely gone, the pigeons fly down to eat the seeds that have fallen on the ground. There is definitely enough for them to eat.  The pigeons are busy running around cleaning up the fallen seeds.  There is one who seems to be a bully.


Earlier, we were watching a magpie couple as they worked on tidying up their secondary home in a tree just outside a window on the other side of our apartment.  We need to be careful about what we leave out on the balcony.  Magpies are thieves!


Crows and other birds are flying around.


In the evening, the owls will have discussions among themselves.



Mark Louis Uhrich

Maisons-Laffitte, France,  24 February 2024

©Copyright 2024,  Mark Louis Uhrich 

22/04/2022











It is springtime.  Flowers are coming up.  Trees are in bloom.  The birds and insects are active.  The woodpecker is doing his thing.  And, Maurice, the neighborhood rooster, is very happy.


I was sitting on our balcony looking out onto the flowering trees in the garden.  They give me food for thought.


The flowering trees burst into bloom early in the spring — even before their leaves burst forth.  They put their energy into beautiful flowering displays — even before they achieve any “return on investment” from the energy produced by the leaves with photosynthesis.


As I sat there, I wondered what we could learn from trees.



You may not agree with me but,   That is how I see things.




Mark Louis Uhrich

Maisons-Laffitte, France,  22 April 2022

©Copyright Mark Louis Uhrich 

22/01/2021

We know the song.  We are on a family vacation going somewhere, and the question starts from the back seat of the; “Are we there yet?”  Truth be told, we have been asking ourselves the same question for some time already.


When I fly from Paris to Boston, and we get overland again — over Newfoundland — I look at the flight position map on my entertainment screen to see where we are.  “Voilà, there it is, Corner Brook.  Good, we’re getting there.  Now, can we speed this thing up at get moving faster?”  (No, we can’t.)  I do the same thing on my return flight and my many other flights to other places around the world.  You probably do the same thing also.


Quite naturally, we all have the impatience to arrive at our destination — to be there.  Continuing with my travel analogy of a previous posting (Traversing to the new world), for about ten months now, we have been on our trip with Covid-19.  We have been through alternating periods of restrictions, confinement, curfews, and others — some severe.  Our social activities are blocked.  Theaters, museums, and restaurants are closed.  Our ability to travel internationally is severely restricted.  Our lives have been on hold.  We all wear masks and wait.


Finally, we begin to see the possibility of exiting this Covid-19 period.  Vaccines have been developed and people are starting to be vaccinated.  (I am apparently on the February list.)  Hopefully, when enough people have received the vaccination, we will be able to resume our lives.  We will be able to travel again, go to restaurants and theaters, and socialize with our friends and family.  Some things may be different, but we hope to reach our destination and progressively resume our lives.


But, wait, the seat belt sign has been turned on.  There is an announcement of possible turbulence ahead. 


We need to be patient.  We are getting there.  But, we are not there yet.




You may not agree with me but,   That is how I see things.




Mark Louis Uhrich

Maisons-Laffitte, France,  22 January 2021

©Copyright Mark Louis Uhrich 



What makes "local"?

28/11/2020

I was sitting in our living room today, here in France, listening to one of our favorite radio stations* — broadcasting worldwide from Martha's Vineyard.  A song came on, and I said to myself, "yes, a local boy."


That got me to thinking.  What makes "local"?


We can be living in one place, listening to the radio or watching TV from other areas, and reading newspapers in different places — in fact, several places — sometimes simultaneously. I can be sitting here and chatting with a friend in South Africa or elsewhere.


So, what makes local?  What defines "local"?


With our ability to be connected everywhere, we are not limited to a definition of local that is only our physical surroundings.  Our definition of what is local is defined by our connections — our relationships.  Local becomes a state of mind — where our head is at.


In that way, "local" becomes redefined — expanded and personal.  In my case, my sense of local is simultaneously the local physical environment and my various connections around the globe.  My local is individually me and my connections.



And who was that singer who started this reflection?  It was Neil Young — actually not local to Martha's Vineyard or even Massachusetts, although he has connections there.  And, maybe that fact reinforces my point.



You may not agree with me but,   That is how I see things.




Mark Louis Uhrich

Maisons-Laffitte, France,  28 November 2020

©Copyright Mark Louis Uhrich 

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*WMVY