__seen from groundlevel:
______ roses underneath the snow
_________ underneath the sky
despite a snow-free forecast, this morning started with new snow falling. so after a cup of coffee, i went outside to clear the walkways, and to try a snow video. this is an experimental setting: filming with inversed vision, so you hold the camera in the hand above ground, and don't see through the lense, but rather navigate by the image appearing on screen. will need a bit of more practice to get to a smooth video. but i like how the structures come out, the rose twigs, the withered flower strucures, the hedge, and above the tree and the power lines - and me, at the edge of vision 2 times.
while clearing the snow, i thought of this snow story i wrote after another snow morning, this is from 2011 (and who knows, maybe some of the snow from back then found its way back this place, after a long cycle of going from snow to water to steam etc... )
She clears the snow, once more. Her shoes are drained already, her arms are tired. The snow keeps falling since days. She tries to see it as just what it is: a structure of H2O. Strings of molecules, the base of life.
“The rain that falls, the water we drink, it’s the same water that was home to the first fish, that quenched the thirst of the first mammals,” a scientist explained on TV.
She imagines them, all those drops of water that keep moving through time, in different states of being, once being a river, once a cup of coffee, once being used for the laundry, and then falling again, as rain, as snow. The circular thought brings on images of the streets of laundry she has ironed in her life, of the armies of dishes she has washed, of all those days she has woken up to, to fall asleep again at their end.
She keeps clearing the snow, and can’t help it: her thoughts are with Sisyphus now, and she tries to see him, again, as a happy person.
+ 30 in 30