6pm and on. Candles, church bells, a helicopter and most of the city experienced hidden deep inside the room, reasonably far away from what is visible to the windows eyes. Warming up, letting the day settle, just consciously spending time on nothing particular. (And feeling grateful for the privilege of being able to do so.)
Deutlich später: Von der Ebene der Stadt wieder nach oben steigen. Regen floh, ein wenig heller wurde der Himmel, gerade bevor die Schatten der Häuser Höfe und Kreuzung wieder in den Winterschatten hüllten. Jetzt: Türen schließen. Tee kochen. Kurz frösteln, auch heute ein wenig der Strecke in den Beinen spüren. Ein Räucherkerzchen entzünden für den Adventssonntag und das Alte in einem selbst. Und noch ein wenig Stille, angenehm planlos für den Augenblick.
5pm. Slow afternoon, back from the road again. Still these days are far from snow, but at least a feeling of coldness is drifting through the rooms. Countering this with candles and hot tea, listening to the chatter and laughing and living of the neighbours in their flats. The late day sounds busy and somehow even in the distance this feels comforting. (Also: Wrestling a stubborn autocorrect facility. So many wrong recommendations at the wrong time.)
The warm colours. The rust of ages.
5pm again. The sun moved on. Navigating these hours that turn shadows to silhouettes, harsh structures of trees in front of a dim grey sky. Having to decide whether it's coffee or tea for now. Still unsure. But at least there's the warmth of small rooms in everything.