Snow vanishing into mysty steam

Living outside on a Forsthill makes you experience the vast sky and the weather as a kind of theatre. At sea you would have to climb a dune top or visit the beach to find yourself in and as part of this panorama. It is not a matter of being able to see everything as this greek word seems to suggest. It is more about being caught up into a huge scenery of permanent change. At sunrise the clouds on the horizon were pink grey. Later they turned into grey white balloons shaking and blowing snow into the valley and over the far Reinhardswald. There blew a cold strong wind. The sky opened up and showed blue. The sun broke through. And, suddenly the snow vanished into mysty steam, whirling up from between the old harbour houses of the river town.


You may think that I sat at the front window the whole day. And I did take my time to do so, but only now and then. While doing a lot of work. Taking time out to look outside. Or by sheer accident or luck, as I suddenly noticed a change of intensity of light or darkness. This big play has been going on throughout the day. I had no time to go for a walk and search viewpoints from within the valley landscape as the real painter would have done.

But why should I care. I’m content to be a petty amateur. One who tries to keep his daily mind awake, his soul filled with spirit. Trying to keep healthy and get the household in order. Hoping that W. will finally feel the deep rest of a homecoming, which she missed for too long. Too many whirlings, storms, while steering our boat into safe harbour. Thankyouforallthat and now sleep your healthy dream again!