A Taxi Driver's Tale

Found on the Internet, and worth repeating...

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy,' she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly.

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.'

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice.'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

ELEMENTS OF ZERMATT: WATER

A WALK OUT on the Gornergrat crosses many mountain streams. There's one favorite picnic spot with a roaring Alpine cascade I'd love to take home with me.

AND WHEN you sit in the meadow next to the stream, here's what you see when you look across the valley.

AS A LOCAL article claims, if you sit here long enough, you'll never need a visit to the psychiatrist!

We're off to a mountain picnic, and will return soon with more images.

ALPENROSEN AND A WORLD IN BLOOM

Lots of rain this year, so the flowers are spectacular.  We set off on a mission to track down some alpenrosen (rhododendron ferrugineum, the ancestor of many modern garden hybrids). Normally they bloom in June and are finished by mid-July, but there are still large stands in the woods and out among the rocks on the trail from Riffelalp to Grunsee. 

We even found stands of alpenrose sheltering among the rocks on the arid trail up to Flualp restaurant on the Findelgletscher (a road leads to a tiny brown speck of a building at the lower left in the glacier description; that's the restaurant/hotel shown on the ridge in the photo below -- such an infinitely small part of the landscape!).  

And, on the walk over from Blauherd, colorful patches of pale blue gentian mixed with lemon yellow succulents.

Along with several out-of-season pasque flowers drinking in the July sunshine. 

And, yes, the edelweiss are starting to appear along the trail, but that's a story for another day's mountain mosey....

SNOWS OF YESTERDAY

IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE our globe is warming, you might want to visit a retreating glacier or two.  Here's a view of the beautiful Zmutt valley, shown below in a classic panoramic photo from September 1997.

Earlier this week we were invited to a mountain picnic in the village of Stafelalp, high in the left wide of the Zmutt valley on the back side of the Matterhorn. 

Here's a view of the mountain taken from the small group of huts at Stafelalp on 31 July. As you can see, mountain huts tend to cluster together on the flat spots, and you'd better be on good terms with your neighbors!

A closer look at the mountain shows the lack of snow cover -- with bare rocks showing on the former ice climbing diagonals at both the left and right sides of the photo. Compare with the heavy snow cover in the September 1997 view. 

Looking to the glacier across the valley, we could watch the snow retreat, with multiple streams of water running merrily down across the rocks. As you can see, the ample snows of yesterday are vanishing. 

BLUMEN BLOOMIN'

IT'S A GREAT YEAR for flowers here -- Europe has been drenched as the U.S. has suffered heat and drought. Geraniums fill every container -- from the old horse-drawn carriages on  the hotel porch ... 

to the window boxes hanging from  the balconies

of hotels

or antique Swiss dwellings now used for storage.

There are geraniums in wild arrays of form and  color...

And even in the vegetable gardens, delphiniums and edelweiss bloom among the onions.

Sweet william, astilbes, and sea holly edge the lawns...

and line the fences.

Hollowed-out trees along the sidewalk make colorful containers...

At the florist you can buy cultivated edelweiss or lavender to add a centerpiece to your outdoor table,  a pot to  soften your steps, or a stoneware sculpture to add a bit of whimsy. 

It's Blumen everywhere in Switzerland.

ZERMATT FOR KIDS

THERE IS A DISNEYLAND aspect to our world these days, and the natural wonders of the world, the everyday scenes of Zermatt, have been translated into children's visions.


Like the Olympics, Zermatt must have its  mascot, and so we have Wolli, the upright lamb of the Wallis (Valais canton), a super-sheep who wears a Matterhorn emblem on his chest, with red-and-white suspenders sporting the stars of the canton's flag.  This Tourismusbüro picture is shot in front of the Leisee ("the Miami Beach of Zermatt"), a kid-friendly lake with sand beach just a short tram-ride or woodland hike from town. 

But there are kid-friendly sights all over. For instance,  we found Wolli watching over the playground in the center of town . 

And the town Arzt, or doctor, has a green band-aid decor on his bright orange Fiat wagon -- one of the few gas-driven vehicles in town.  

Even the famous Swiss "green cross" on the sign near his office door is composed of crossed green band-aids.

As in any-self-respecting tourist town, food is a principal attraction, and this restaurant sign tells us that even the Matterhorn itself gets hungry -- in Kanji!

Stuffed critters are a popular buy for kids and adults alike: the smaller versions of St. Bernards and the local field rodents called marmottes are seen hanging from backpacks all over town.

Again, it's not only for kids, because the ubiquitous ice cream stands serve young and old alike.

And the symbol of the local bakery is not the gingerbread man, but the life-size Swiss doughboy with a pretzel ear.

I suppose there's a little kid in all of us.

MATTERHORN NIGHT, MORNING, AND MORE

THE SUN GOES DOWN as we settle in, and soon, from our balcony, we can watch the moon rise  over the ridge next to the Matterhorn. There are two blue lights on the ridge: one at Trockener Steg station on the left and another at Schwarzsee on the right.  To our (sleepless) amazement they suddenly changed at 2:45 AM to flashing red and green for a few minutes.  When we asked why, we learned that anyone with a charge card can phone a certain number and, for a fee, change the lights to any one of seven colors.  Of the $50 charge, a small amount goes to a charity for families of fallen Zermatt mountain guides. 

Next morning, I woke early to see what the new day had brought to The Mountain.  Automatic camera settings made it hard to photograph, with shadows in the valley and daylight blazing above the ridge. What a contrast with the night photo! With the Matterhorn presiding over all, the valley ends in a broad swath of hiking/skiing trails. In summer, you need months to explore them all; in winter you can cover more terrain and traverse most of them in just a couple of exhausting weeks.

But the weather never stays the same for long in the mountains.  As the day wears on, the clouds gather, and by the end of the afternoon, the vast view is socked in. Hard to believe it's the same valley. No more Matternhorn.

In the streets of town pedestrians run for cover, while rain pelts down on the upper reaches of the Vispa river.