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About Geneva

So, picture this: me, green lil’ me, cruisin’ some dusty road. “Where’s the body?”—nah, scratch that, “Where’s the gal?” I’d be all nervous, ribbitin’ to myself, “Kermit, don’t screw this up!” Prolly spot her leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as heck. I’d roll up, all polite—Hi-ho, miss!—and she’d smirk, like, “What’s a frog want?” Ha! I’d die laughin’ inside.

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I also gotta mention the bizarre alleys of Dorfstrasse. Oh man, these alleys are full of surprises. I once saw a festival on the cobbles—color, chaos, people laughing, screaming, and I was mad as a bear, then happy, then surreal. My mood swings, always. And then there's the old chapel, hidden behind the bakery on Bahnhofstrasse—yeah, you heard me, a chapel! Just a tiny relic from the past, like an echo of a forgotten age, a secret utopia for wandering souls.

A-B. Adult female Araneus diadematus in web in a garden in Flawil, northeastern Switzerland (photo by Rätus Fischer).