And if the Creationists believe they have it right, then I believe the moon is really made of cheese and its dark side visited by aliens who park their warp engine space crafts by a pyramid made of marzipan.

They go and play bingo in a hall where angle dust rains down on tables made of rhubarb, while giant centipedes wait on the alien crowds.

Ja!

And if that’s not true, it’s too late to ask Neil Armstrong what he thinks about it all.

Oh god, it’s full moon again!

Rest in peace, Neil.

 

 

Some people think that life’s random.

It certainly appears that way at times.

There are others, the Creationists, that have the believe and faith that what happens is all part of the bigger plan, still part of the creation and beyond. The same people also believe that the world is roughly 6000 years old and that Darwin is a bit of a twit who had it all wrong.

There’s the rational group that thinks that the enlightenment period surely was the beginning of rational answers and that randomness would eventually be explained by the more understandable processes of cause and effect.

There’s the chaos theorists who say that life might appear random but that it’s really not. That all is guided and made by distinctive patterns that are often covert, but also distinct.

For this group, an equilibrium is the expression of the highest state of disorder.

Although emotionally and semantically I disagree, I can see their point.

To me an equilibrium signifies a state of balance and relative calm.

A chaos theorist would have it that all chaos has gone before the equilibrium and that the equilibrium is the final expression of the process of disorder.

Apparently all and sundry can be explained by this theory. Economics, population growth, the fall of nations, how termites live their daily life.

At times I also think that life seems pretty random. How did I arrive where I am now?

People are quite a predictable species though.

We like to think of ourselves as being interesting (and we are) and that we really enjoy change and variety (and we do). But underneath it all, we are very much reliant on routines.

Not much different to what one sees in the animal kingdom.

Many people rarely change their breakfast – sometimes for years.

When I first arrived here (in our new flat) I thought that what was going on around me was also pretty random.

A bird sings here, a pig grunts there, a sheep has something to bleat about at unpredictable times of the day.

But I’m starting to notice the emergence of distinctive patterns.

Ok, the sun rises every day (nothing new, and thankfully so).

But at dawn and sunrise something predictable happens underneath all the noise of the waking world.

Certain animals make predictable noises.

There’s the rooster (no need to write what he does). Than there’s the other birds…tweet tweet…enough said.

And then there’s this pigeon.

It likes a certain tree and has a very monotonous call that is a bit like chinese water torture.

It starts out subtly, and then just goes on.

For weeks and weeks and weeks. Everyday, at a certain time, it calls it’s monotonous call. Then it stops. Suddenly.

The next morning it starts again.

Not only that, but it has a favourite tree that it loves to sit on while it coos.

Might be the view, or it might be the highest point around. Perhaps its position on the tree is reflective of its status amongst its pigeon peers (I hear some birds are quite hierarchical).

Not sure, but the bird certainly is predictable and seems to love the pattern and repeatability of its life.

I’m getting to like this rather ‚boring‘ pigeon. Life looks pretty easy for this bird.

Maybe there are still lessons to be learned from the critters around us that sort of get lost when one assimilates into the bigger cities.

Anyway, enough of my personal low level and random philosophising…here’s the pigeon:

 

 

At times my wonderful travel guide seems apprehensive about my happiness in my newly adopted old home country.

She’s worried that after a quarter of a century in a place as beautiful as New Zealand I might feel out of sorts, disconnected or amiss being back in Germany.

Quite the opposite is true.

The Germany I’m getting to know is fun, interesting and very livable.

I’ve met nice people, feel connected to my surroundings, enjoy a sense of belonging and appreciate the history and culture of this country.

As a bonus I don’t feel like an immigrant on a daily basis.

No one comments on my funny accent or asks me where I’m from.

I don’t even get to watch the ‚Python’s‘ goose stepping performance, which I’ve seen delivered to me in New Zealand by many friends, acquaintances and strangers.

In New Zealand – after being there for half my life – people still ask „Interesting accent, where’ya from? Traveling around?“.

People are showing interest I guess and that is nice.

But to answer the same questions for so many years is rather confusing and tedious at times.

I have been guessed to be swedish, dutch, south african, polish and even irish (come on you guys, where’s your region and accent awareness – me? irish?)

My standard reply these days is  „Life’s a journey, mate.“ alternated with „We’re all from somewhere, bro.“ .

But these avoidance answers are not needed here.

After all this time I still belong.

I’m not sure what will happen, where I’ll be or how I’ll feel.

Good or bad, one thing’s certain, it’ll all be an adventure.

That is one of the wonderful things about this trip.

And at the end of the journey – in good old Kiwi fashion – she’ll be right, mate.