10pm and out there again, standing in the backyard and letting all senses embrace what this moment holds. Lights on terraces and balconies, and a bunch of bright stars up where the roofs edge the sky. The scent of fires and charcoal on the other side of the fence, music and laughter with people celebrating the first warm evening in a while. Sleep always at arms length, but dreams might still take some time to reshape. Have a quiet night wherever you are.
Schnell zog der Tag vorüber: Gewitter weichen, Regen und Hagel trocknen. Weiße Wolkenberge formieren sich zu Tieren zu Burgen zu Federn und Geistern. (Wald in den Haaren, Schlamm und Blätter an den Sohlen. Lang genug unterwegs, die Gedanken sind voll, der Körper erschöpft.)
10pm and on. Quiescing the noise, muting external sources. Dimming that last light remaining for today. Leaving behind some notes for tomorrow mornings self, unsure whether that scribble will manage to carry its meaning through the dark hours. Watching some drunk young dudes disappear in a car way below, and a student slightly the same age staring into his books, somewhere across the street. Different lives different dreams different ways to fill nights.
Close to 9pm. Bottle's still filled but it's just water for the day. Somehow, evening managed to cool down even more, still reluctant to consider rain though. An airplane taking off in the distance, the familiar sound of the engines, coming from everywhere and nowhere in particular. Windows opening to the backyards, the family next door getting together for a late dinner. There's music, there are chants akin to a prayer, words unheard, mood just vaguely captured. (Listening in a distant contemplation, without understanding. Trying to steer clear of the late days edges. Everything being a bit vague and hazy tonight.)