Nachmittagsschwere. Sonne tief über den Dächern. Der Fluss zieht glänzend durch Wiesen aus schlammigem Grün. Angeheitert vom Wein, halb verloren in den Themen zwischen den Zeilen. Kein Schnee außerhalb der Erinnerung.
5pm. In a mood of winter, under dark trees as daylight fled. Catching snowflakes, sceptically observed by suburban squirrels. Different neighbourhoods, and a vague yearning.
11am and on. The darkness the light the bright sun in a quiet sky. The dizziness of slow Sundays. And still the absence of snow to cover up what has been obvious for too long.