Delicate – the soft, venerable underbelly

MyTownFridayShoot-Out January 27 - Delicate: Show us the delicate side of your town! The dancers, the flowers, the architectural ornaments...

You may read this post thinking that I have gone off on a tangent again, but this time I have just chosen to look at the word delicate as other than a soft pink tutu, or a single peach rose bud, which by the way couldn’t be found in Nova Friburgo.  When I first read this week’s topic an idea immediately popped into my head. Then I spent considerable time trying not to use it.  I walked through town, looking for photos that fit what I thought was the intent of the topic; talking with Camillo about my idea, having him try to talk me out of it, but, stubborn like I am, my idea didn’t go away. So I did what I always do when I am trying to prove my point, I started with definitions and I found the connection I was looking for. 

Within the definition of delicate you can find the word fragile.  When a word is used to define another those words are interchangeable…There are favorite or common word usages but they can be used as a replacements for each other without changing the meaning.  For example, we would not say a delicate eco system, we would say a fragile eco system, both phrases convey the same meaning.    {synonyms of Fragile; brittle, crisp, crumbly, decrepit, delicate, feeble, fine, flimsy, frail, frangible, friable, infirm, insubstantial, shivery, slight, unsound, weak, weakly}

I wanted to show you the delicate underbelly of my town; the Fragile City.  Just a little more than a year ago we had major rains, flooding and mudslides in Friburgo.  I have written about it a few times, and I’ve thought about it a great deal.  You could fairly say that I have fixated on it.  Maybe this is the first time I have been so closely tied to a disaster.  The realization that my little corner of the world is not safe has been very difficult for me to get around.  Maybe I have had too good a life, minor problems have happened close to me but without truly effecting me.  For whatever the reason, this has shaken how I think about Nova Friburgo and its surrounding area.

Where I once saw the beauty of stone rising from the forest, I now see trees sitting precariously atop the soil.  I see how fragile our hold is on the land.  I now know that the relationship between man and nature is a very  fragile  one.      

                                                          

Where I once saw a road that connected us to the outside world,    I now see what nature can do to reclaim its land, follow its plan over the millions of years to move the mountains to the sea.

Where I saw the structures of man as reassuring, strong.  I now see that no matter how strong we build: how high, how wide the walls,  nature can take away at will and we can be left hanging precariously to the edge of what we thought was a sold ground.  

With its grand stones soaring high above the city, collecting the rain, funneling it down into the valley to the river, I can see that our truce with nature is a fragile one. 

 

And we must feel humbled by how vulnerable  our city is to the next summer rain.