Close to 10pm and concluding the day again. Listening to the thin winds in the trees, the small creatures on its many different ways. Perceiving the sky in all its openness, quiet and soft. Still missing Moon but for the moment this seems bearable, for waiting for her is never a burden. (All that you feel is tranquility.) Have a soft night wherever you are.
Much later. Elsewhere. Images of meadows changing with the flow of weeks, the routines of life out here between the hills. Grass, flowers, some grain in between, a dense carpet green in shade of the trees and slightly yellow where it touches the sun at daytime. But now light's retreating again, echoes of the week still strong enough to hide the silence of this place, to keep brain spinning in its half-idle thoughts while the body's striving to get some rest. Emptying glasses, at the backdoor. Breathing the air of a young night. A liner note in a mental journal, and a new dusk. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.
Unterbrochene Träume, auch: Ratlos, wieviel Zeit vergangen ist. Oder wo die Tage, die Zustände, die Gefühle und Wirklichkeiten aneinander stoßen. Ruhe auf den Balkonen, kalt glänzende Dächer. Selbstgespräche mit Mond.
📷 a-different-void
Halfway on to dawn. Or at least it feels like that. Not sure what to make of that information, though. Listening into a quiet city, even though unable to grasp any audible structures. Mental movies in the midst of temporal nowhere.
Way past midnight again. Staring through what seem frozen windows, losing sight in shapeless clouds. No stars for now. Distant church bells, rarely wondered whether they can be heard at night as well. They can. Keeping lights dim, waiting patiently for another deviation back to sleep.