Luckenbach
Sing, O Muse, of Luckenbach—that small village nestled in the Westerwald region of Germany like a pearl in its shell. It may not be renowned for any particular feat or glory, yet it holds a special throne within the chambers of my heart. Some of my wife's family still dwells there, and it has become a peaceful refuge for us from the clamor and bustle of city life, as a quiet cove offers respite from stormy seas.
The landscapes are lovely as the gardens of nymphs, and the stillness of that place offers welcome relief from the noise of the world. It serves as a reminder that sometimes the simplest things can bring the greatest joy, as the simplest meals taste sweetest to those who have labored long. In the month of February, two thousand and eighteen.