Closing in on 00:00. Took the few stars this night has to offer and placed them in the window corner, upper left. Sounds of cats exploring backyards. A sigh on some balcony. A flickering of candles. And some fuzzy shadows quietly disappearing in deeper dark.
Close to 11am again. Cleaning up. Throwing away. Too: Standing in the backyard, gazing at featureless clouds, feeling and scent and mood just aligned with the very time of year, for a fraction of a moment. A belated Hello, May!
Throwback Jan 22, 2019. A narrow parking backyard in some odd Munich hotel. Somewhat recent past compared to other old posts in here, yet from a different life. Annual kick-off event with my former company. The usual conflicting sentiments of having a good time with some great colleagues while general structure and mood in the organization already was deterioriating back then. (And, remember diving into a wholly different kind of darkness all along a lengthy conversation with the night porter in that particular place. It doesn't get more "gothic" than that.)
9pm and on. Restarting heavy machinery. Cold hours, late days. Standing in the backyard, trying to reach for the grey sky almost touching the evergreen fir. Years later, all size becomes more relative in here. (Waiting for stars to get stuck im the tree. Or at least more snow.)
7pm and slowing down. Red wine and the start of the season of candles. There's a cold wind roaming between the houses, and always enough shadow, enough twilight to counter both night and day. Still early, still options to choose.
Einer von diesen Tagen also: Viel zu spät im Schlaf verschwinden, und dann aufschrecken, als der Morgen schon deutlich über den Dächern steht. Im ersten Blick über die noch stillen Höfe und ihr dichtes Grün springen alle Gedanken durcheinander, wild und bunt genug, dass der Geist keinen richtig erkennen kann und der Kopf sich gleichzeitig beladen und seltsam leer anfühlt. Wespen und Spinnweben am offenen Küchenfenster. Eine Meute aufgescheuchter Spatzen unten im Baum. Nachbars Radio und seine merkwürdigen Präferenzen an Musik und Nachrichten. Noch besteht der Samstag aus losen Fragmenten, die zusammenfinden müssen. Aber nicht vor dem ersten Kaffee, diese Zeit muss sein. Habt es mild heute!