ferdinand hodler, autumn evening 1892
this is the time of year when i begin to measure life in terms of the weather … the light … colour …
everything becomes that much more fragile, faded, tenuous.
life itself becomes something to be guarded, protected.
i scan the skies as i ride. hoping for some sort of intimation of what's next.
Lovely! Yes, It is that season. Can not see what is around the corner.
ReplyDeletei figure snow. cold days, slushy days. deep snow days. days with next to no sunlight. days with blinding sunlight and star high skies . . .
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