Returning after all. Memories of sunset in a rear view mirror, a sea of light on the opposite lane, the soft tones of dusk. A lonely concrete pillar on an empty parking lot, bearing a neon illumination advertising another random business. And pylons holding up power lines, black shadows against the waning day. Too many impressions and mental images and feelings like strong waves on a quiet lake.
Early evening. The cold remained, the day fled. Slowly warming up again. // 📷 366skies
Out there. The shapes of todays weather. // 📷 366skies
Closing in on 10pm. Old synth wave music, either from some seemingly forgotten background tab or somewhere out in the backyards. Watching a soft-coloured dusk with tired eyes, surprised to see the evening is still capable of bringing up so many colours. Surprised, too, that mind's still capable of shaping thoughts into somewhat clear structures. And amidst all this: The ever-present challenge of being with oneself, ones own perception and program, in between a static horizon and elusive clouds. (Good night everyone, wherever you are.)