This morning, two tourists approached me in the church and asked: "Excuse me, could you tell us what festival is being celebrated in front of the church today?" I replied, "Funeral." They looked momentarily flustered and mumbled, "Oh, we're sorry," though there was truly nothing to apologize for. In the afternoon, a walk. The mountains seem especially close today. And once again, Thomas Mann comes to mind.

My mother's flowers are particularly beautiful again this year.

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