I sit watching and wondering, as I stare contently through my picture window.
The world appears to be a giant hidden sphere of white goddesses, scattered with various grey creatures protruding through the thick white carpet, now completely motionless on there journey towards the heavens.
Life is stagnant, the rivers ripples are gone, the playful squirrels are hidden, birds are not seen fluttering from one tree to the next, all of life seems dead, all but the steady and constant waves of society, as I feel the rumble of the passing train beyond.
Forty years later I’m now looking out the same picture window and now see a white carpet that appears like magic, made up out of a hundred trillion beautifully individual carved snow flakes and together make a bright, expansive and full white carpet. The trees above are leafless but are holding the truth and hope of everlasting spring and yes the birds are less and less active and so are the squirrels but not vacant just fluttering at a slower pace. All but the steady waves of society, as I hear the rumble of the passing train beyond.