WPC: Antipanti-cipation

If you ask me now, the anticipation is obvious: Slovenia is winking at me. Just a little longer.

The title stems from an old Slovenian poem by Janez Menart entitled “Antisong”: Anti-avtor je zvrst bebca, anti-avion je ptič. Anti-Pepe, to je Pepca, anti-panti ni pa nič« (1979). In quick translation: “Anti-author is a sort of moron, anti-airplane is a bird. Anti-Pepe, that is Pepca, and anti-panti is nothing is all.”

The first thought upon hearing “anticipation” goes to a sweet true story of an Italian train that happened to be in anticipo – that is early – instead of in usual delay. You can read it here.

In anticipation of my photos, here is a quick salute to my posts in the week that just passed:

there was a look at my horizons just how nature intended them to be viewed;
reality was defined, including one dog in autumn colours;
a sign-reading and heart-following post was born after the discovery of a CD on the road;
Vuk-the-Wolf-Karadžić wished to remark that he was not pleased;
the most fun was had taking these photos of a Roman shell-like staircase;
on Thursday we went back to Caldana for more well-lived doors;
and finally I took bestia to the beach where he ran and my lens tried to catch him.

The photos below were taken during our New Year’s holidays in Slovenia on three consecutive occasions. Let’s see what anticipates me (you will have to click on my uncle and proceed from there):

Uncle in timeless Piran. This clock is not a clock.

New Year’s Eve is far from bestia’s favourite holiday.

Fish doors and other Piran pecularities await.

Such as this take on Nativity Scene in Piran Minorite Monastery.

St. George church from one side…

… and from the other. Piran from Strunjan.

Father’s garden and mother’s art.

A memory of moments past.

And new memories to make.

First joint New Year's Eve. He bought me this cap. :D (Who took this??)

First joint New Year’s Eve. He bought me this cap. 😀 (Who took this??)

A blast from such a past that’s more like a past life. 1987.

From the coast we move inland, to Ljubljana. This is the view of the Alps from my parents’ front door on a good day. Not many such sunny days in winter.