the photo is from yesterday's drive. the trees and forests: still green. but the fields, harvested by now, apart from some maize fields.
the sky: azur-blue. it probably is the last summer weekend. the shadow in the photo, it is unintended, but fitting: the time of less light is stretching into the days. dawn comes later every day by roughly 2 minutes, dusk comes earlier. soon, the leaves will pick up the change in light and temperature, and start to change color, in yet another circle of things.
in a forward spin, some lines from another September, from a day of yellow leaves. and this thought: the leaving, the arriving, it also goes for our move through the seasons:
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leaves, or: die Welt ist überall
late afternoon. september winds arrive from france. they roam the trees in the street, paint the grey sidewalks with whirls of yellow and red that keep moving. natural art, i think. leaf sculptures.
later i call a friend, and we talk about journeys to angkor and walks through autumn gardens. about long distance trips and short distance trips. about the time it takes to be in a place, to arrive there, to leave from there. leaves, i think. leaf, leave.
"die welt ist überall," my friend says -
"the world is everywhere."
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