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There is almost nothing as lovely as a solitary walk during a winter night. The cool air on my skin has a special quality of life - a special slowness inherent in ethereal snowflakes dancing a dance of silence in the light of the street lamps. The streets are full of emptiness; that is, an emptiness that does not remove all other presence in a room, but that is a presence itself filling everything up. I indulge in laying on the ground, almost drowning in white softness. Motionless, I stare at the clouds pouring tiny grains of a clotted rainbow. Beauty at the center of all emotions.
Picture: Winter in Vaihingen/Enz (2010)
~2010~
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