Til ære for Marie Krarup, som i følge BT altså kun bliver 50 år i dag, selvom hun undertiden giver udtryk for en livsfrygt, der er en 100-årig værdig; i den alder, altså i nærheden af de hundrede, er det ganske forståeligt hvis man efterhånden har oparbejdet – jvf dette indlæg – en decideret frygt for frugtbarheden og alle dens udskejelser og forbandelser. Den slags hører vistnok ungdommen til.

“Jeg er så glad for, at jeg ikke lever i en asa-frugtbarhedsreligion, der også var meget præget af frugtbarhed og ritualer, og hvor der også var fallossymboler. Jeg er glad for, at vi blev kristne og blev drejet ind i den vestlige kultur.” →

… bringer jeg dette billede (fundet her) af en romersk vindklokke af en type som engang for meget længe siden var uhyre almindelige og udbredte og hang frit fremme til pynt og til nytte og inspiration.

Fra wikipedia:

“In ancient Rome, a tintinnabulum was a wind chime or assemblage of bells. A tintinnabulum often took the form of a bronze phallic figure or fascinum, a magico-religious phallus thought to ward off the evil eye and bring good fortune and prosperity. A tintinnabulum was hung outdoors in locations such as gardens, porticoes, houses, and shops, where the wind would cause them to tinkle.”

Thoreau konstaterede:

"Most people with whom I talk, men and women even of some originality and genius, have their scheme of the universe all cut and dried, — very dry, I assure you, to hear, dry enough to burn, dry-rotted and powder-post, methinks, — which they set up between you and them in the shortest intercourse; an ancient and tottering frame with all its boards blown off. They do not walk without their bed. Some, to me, seemingly very unimportant and unsubstantial things and relations, are for them everlastingly settled ..."

---

— Henry David Thoreau: A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers