Hours and hours of thunderstorms during last night almost drowned the city. Grassy expanses in the many parks nearby hid behind a mirror of water, reflecting the many shade trees.
The 'pulmones de la ciudad', the Lungs of the City, are only a couple of blocks from my house. There is the Jardin Zoologico, Jardin Botanico, Parque de 3 Febrero, Jardin Japones, Jardin Rosedal, and a whole lot more.
Awakening to a relatively 'cool' day after last night's cloudburst, I went off in my new sandaly shoes for a four hour stroll. I give credit to 'Leather Shoes made in Argentina', instead of 'Plastic Shoes made in China' for surviving miles of wandering about. The locals sure know how to caress one's feet with something akin to a second skin, made from some unknown and already eaten bovine.
Resting in the shade beside a 'temporary pond'
A 'Casona', mansion, in the Botanical Garden. Most of the parks trace their origin to the avarice and love of excess of long gone dictators, who surrounded themselves and their casonas with hectares and hectares of open greenspace, elaborately land scaped and filled with statuary. In hindsight probably one of the few fortunate outcomes from tyranny - the citizens have converted the opulent private estate into public parks and gardens after their liberation (there seem to be various of those). The ambiance is absolutely lovely Old World.
Versailles anyone?
Lily Ponds - each one with it's unique statue guarding the fat Koi fish floating around in the water surrounding their base.
No racoons or otters to steel them. And the feral cat population the parks are not interested in what floats in the water, they concentrate on the song birds perching in the tree branches.
Jorge Louis Borges, the Argentinian literary giant and national icon. He was nominated for a Nobel Prize during the Forties, but lost out, due to his alleged connection/support for Fashist regimes in Italy and Germany. In the meantime, Neruda (Chilean Poet) won the coveted Prize, despite his sympathy and alliance with the Stalinist regime - go figure. The disappointment did not lessen his energy and creativity, and he still stands as one of the most revered poets and writers in literary history. He maintained a strong resistance against dictatorship, which was rampart during his lifetime in his own country, but he lived far from Argentina for many years. He died overseas, but his remains are buried here. He had turned completely blind by the end of his long, productive and intriguing life.
Street Lanterns in the City, especially the many parks, are reminders of a more romantic era of city design and planning.
Shady nooks surrounded by dark and leafy plants harbour the most thought provoking statues.
'Saturnalia' is the name of this bronze group. And it seems as if everyone of these participants had just the right amount of Argentinian wine.
Venus, gazing benevolently upon her visitors.
This is I, begging on my (young again) knees to help me abstain from walking for at least one day, in order for me and my feet to be able to face my first Milonga (tango dance). So far, all my good intentions have been walked away into oblivion in the streets and parks of Buenos Aires.
