...after several days of rain the grass is becoming tall and the trees are in full leaf... i can hear about half a dozen birds singing in the trees around the clearing... i breathe in, contentedly, and look up at the pale blue sky and at the white, grey and cream-coloured clouds... i observe and feel some of the insects on my hands and face and in the air... and i feel glad to be here this summer evening...
...the oak tree above is almost hiding a grey cloud that is slightly pink in the sunset... a man on a bicycle rides on one wheel along a narrow footpath, he is the only person to pass since i came here 20 minutes ago...
...i see that the hundreds of bramble leaves and grasses close to me change slightly their relative positions when i turn my head, thus revealing the spaces between them... not so the distant clouds - they look three-dimensional only when one is moving at comparable speeds and distances, as in a fast train or in an aircraft...
...it is getting dark and soon i'll have to move...
...the man on a bicycle returns and now he is riding fast on both wheels downhill... he glances at me as he passes...
...and now, in an underground train, we are emerging from underneath the heath, an ancient moraine (debris pushed along by a glacier) into the fading daylight and amongst the electric lights in streets and windows... miraculous, as always...
(these pages are designed to be read with the window set to two-thirds of the screen width)
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© 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007 john chris jonesIf you wish to reproduce any of this text commercially please send a copyright permission request to jcj at publicwriting.net
