Onward #writephoto

Onward

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We stop at the top of the small hill, and look down at the road meandering away from us. The bikes lie on the short grass, next to tall poles that remind us that, here, the snow can erase everything, and level the landscape, but we are too early for it. The air is cold, the pale rays of the winter sun lit the distant crags. Soon the night will fall. We set the tent not far from here, and lit a fire. Tomorrow is another day.

Turning #writephoto

Turning

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Yesterday… We walked in this valley, under the burning sun, hand in hand, believing in the eternal summer. Yesterday, perhaps, more than you, my love, I longed for Autumn, and the fall of leaves. Did I believe Time had stopped? Did I believe Earth was flat, after all?

Or was I inebriated, drunk in our love?

But now, Winter has come, silent, ineluctable: the hills are white with snow, our shoes leave no trace on the frozen ground. Nature has taken back what is hers, the air is cold, yesterday’s azure sky is now deep grey.

The light is out.

Magic #writephoto

Magic

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“So much light,” you said, “and here is the path, just across the little stream, do you remember?”

I do remember, we walked there, many times, you and me, when we were kids, and later. In all seasons, in winter like this, with sunlight filtering through the trees, reflecting on the snow, our hands in mittens, in spring, our hearts feeling the change in the air, the sounds of birds, and in the long summer evenings…

But it’s late autumn I remember most, the late season when the wind gets colder, when dark clouds gather above the forest. And then, that year…

And then winter was with us, so fast, and one late afternoon, just like this, you kissed me. You did, and I was taken aback, perhaps even a little frightened. Your golden hair, your red lips… It was there, near the stream, never had I had felt such fire in my soul…

We are old now. The fire still burns in our hearts. The forest is still there, and the sun, reflected on the snow.  We walk, hand in hand, listening to the light noises of nature falling asleep.

Cracked #writephoto

Inspired by Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt

 

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The ground was dry, it would be some days before rain fell again, perhaps longer. As we walked through the field we saw the small shell, among the debris of the last harvest: was it murder, theft or accident?

You looked at me and said: “Just think, if it was ours, our egg, our unborn child?” I looked again, the pale colour of the thin shell, the fragility of the poor abandoned egg.

Life is so fragile, and yet, it perdures.

Wisp #writephoto

Inspired by Sue Vincent’s Thursday’s photo prompt

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“There are many universes…” she said, in the voice of a factual statement, “and, sometime, voices filter, from one to another. Then one has to know how to read the signs.”

I waited, hoping for an explanation. The clouds formation, above the rocky landscape, was turning weird. The air was icy cold.

“If you want to learn the way,” she resumed in a lower tone, “then I can show you, but there is a price.”

“Let’s assume I am prepared to pay that price…” I said, wanting to sound confident, and surer of myself than I really was.

“It’s not a matter of assumption,” came her reply, now uncompromising. “Do you want to learn, or not: that is your choice.”

I paused. I’d met the woman during the long hike, through a landscape that felt as if it belonged to another world. We’d talked about the scenery, then about alien worlds. And now, the sky, the wisp. Wasn’t that ice formation, high up, close to the upper atmosphere?

“I do want to learn. What is the price?”

“O, this is very simple, in order to teach you, I have to take you to where I come from…”

Tempted #Sunshine #Rehberge

From the cheeky crew…

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A ray of sunshine, a reflection on the fresh snow: it is so tempting to think of the new year, and of Spring! Yet we are in winter, souls are hiding from the cold winds behind long coats and wooden scarves, the days are short. Only the ducks appear to be quite at ease in the icy water of the canal. We know it will come, after many other days of staying indoors, just popping out when the sun comes out…

Photo: Plötzensee, Berlin Wedding, © 2017 Honoré Dupuis

Connected #TheDailyPrompt

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#TheDailyPrompt: Connected

Today I said farewell to the woods we love so much: a storm was brewing, the distant hills masked behind a thin mist.

So green is this land, so mysterious the mausoleum, so silent the path that dwindles its way to the shore…

Yet once we have gone, we will still be haunting this land, invisible, so quiet even the birds will think it is a mistake: in truth, we will walk the streets of the city, holding on the tenuous link between now and yesterday…

How long is Now? 

#VisDare130 Possibility

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You came, in this infinite solitude, on the edge of the lake. Last night I fetched you from the small town: you were dead tired, I had to carry you to your room.

And this morning, early, I saw you, standing in the silence, the calm, icy water half way to  your knees, the black shawl over your shoulder. For long minutes we were immobile, taking in the immaculate beauty of these shores.

No words are needed. It has been so long: I know now that you will stay. All these years I hoped, alone. Perhaps you did, too.

You are here. The world is reborn, the trees are alive, and black is the water at your feet.

Soon, Spring will come, and we’ll walk through forests so old we will have to relearn their tongue – but maybe, you, will remember.

I look into your eyes, deeper than the lake.