10am and on. The sun, the frost and the roads outbound. Watching a farmer steer a huge tractor through icy fields. Silhouettes of village trees in strong light. And everything slowly fading in the hills behind. Changing places changing selves again.
4pm and on. Afternoon all of a sudden, hours and days like a wink of an eye and only noticing time that fled by looking at a pile of papers, at a load of scribbles and notes, some taken hours ago and already rendered unreadable due to crippled writing style and random acronyms. Breathing against tensions. Eyes closed, forehead on cold windowpane. Settling.
10am and on. Thin snow falling from mostly lightless skies again. Leaving villages that hide in between pale white hills. Further up, weather has shaped odd white structure around the bushes that side of the road. Still trying to embrace winter.
4pm and on. Flowing with the tides and the traffic, outbound, under a low bright sun. Snowcovered trees in the distance, powerlines and bridges left and right, villages and farms surrounded by muddy fields and grey batches of forest. Rolling wheels. Swinging between modes and moods again.
4pm, heading on. Halfway into communication. Moving fast, collecting tasks to appear left and right, trying to keep a clear sight on what's to be achieved. A little of blue sky, clouds hurrying elsewhere, early sunset and still not feeling like having accomplished a lot today. All familiar perceptions in everything. Wrestling imposter and imperfection.