Afternoon, under the storm. Or the rain, whatever is to roam the hours. // đˇ 366skiesÂ
Afternoon. A change of light a change of weather. // đˇ 366skiesÂ
Early evening. A single moment of calm in a stormy day. // 366skiesÂ
8pm again. Stormy mild air, too many thoughts under wide skies, and an unkind headache clutching around the brain.(Keeping eyes closed under the weather for a few moments. Listening to what's invisible by now. Trying to not try much more today. The challenges of being unproductive way early in night.)
11am and on. Some sun in the windowblinds. Some wind in the backyards, and a cold breeze of way-too-old estimates that made it into new plannings. Also: There's a distinction between a proof-of-concept and a solution that actually works. Optimism seems a poor choice of tool for bridging that gap.
7pm and on. Pastel hours. Returning, noticing the many different weathers to be found in between mountains, forests and lake. Wondering whether that's unique to time spent in places like this - or just about the same everywhere else and the usual mode of daily operation hides away all these details from conscious perception. Trembling while cold sinks down on the meadows. Still early, yet it feels late enough to call it a day.
Später, nachmittags im Nachsommer-April. Bei Sonne kurz nach drin gehen, im Wolkenbruch wieder ins Freie treten. Abendglocken, prasselnde Tropfen, die von den Steinen nach oben spritzen und feuchtschmutzige Muster auf allem hinterlassen. Dann Stille, ein Regenbogen, eine zornige Amsel. Der Moment floh so schnell, wie er kam. Petrichor-Stunden.