Mass was being said, so we entered quietly and took a seat in the back, pulled in by the live choir singing to a full-throated organ. The rest of the mass, when there wasn’t the choral music that I love, was time for reflection on my family–after all, it was the Sabbath. I thought about Barbara, with her heart disease, and was saddened for her. I think the sadness came from the somber tones of the mass, and certainly wasn’t helped along by the scene below, taken later that day. One of the princesses of the Wittelsbach realm had lost her daughter and this was a memorial to that event.
It was interesting to get that five-year perspective, and as I sat in this soaring church, immersed in the strict choral harmonies of some ordered German composer, I thought of how Heavenly Father must view us with his perspective and wonder how often we miss the boat about what’s most important in life. Maybe, as illustrated by the memorial above, it is in relationships, keeping them going, figuring them out, loving more completely, repenting where necessary and most importantly–learning to forgive. For as I’ve gotten older, I think the whole grand plan and design rests on Christ’s shoulders and his twin gifts to us: repentence and forgiveness.
Music man, outside the church.
We headed to the Residenz next, Munich’s great royal house. We had wanted to go back there every since that fateful day when, as Dave so delicately put it, we had a computer malfunction and lost the photos of the previous trip. (For the record, I was the computer malfunction; still learning a new program, I erased the photos.) It was interesting to stroll around the Residenz, remembering places and sights we’d seen and enjoyed, but really hadn’t remembered because of the lost photos. “Oh, I remember this,” one of us would say, and the other would nod in agreement. Or we’d remember what was next in the tour. We decided not to get the audiophones as we’d done that before and forgotten it anyway. Such an interesting thing, this memory. Like the sea washing the beach clean every day, and our photos are the collected and saved seashells in the glass jar at home.
Look for a separate post on the Residenz at a later day.
While get off at the next stop and while we wait to cross, we see the BierBus, or Beer Bus.
Have keg, will travel, as long as the people sitting down peddle hard–it’s the means of locomotion.
Yep, the surfers. This stream comes out from underneath the bridge at a good clip, hitting some sort of pipe, which creates a moving wave.
Just a friendly reminder.
The surfer would jump in, take a few passes back and forth, then dive into the froth behind them, giving the next person a chance. It was fascinating to watch and I’ll post video later. Dave later commented that it was a very efficient way to surf.
We kept walking. Dave stood in the middle of the street to get this one. No wonder they call us crazy tourists (don’t worry, I kept watch).