six – the colour white

white reflects all light. so the thought of purity and so on is a little far-fetched, yet many still adhere to it. white does not allow anything too close to contaminate it. it is the colour of aloofness. and yet – when the white snow covers the mud and the little (and the gross) indiscretions…

having and needing not

the whole need no healer. the satiated need no food. those who have a god, need no other gods. let’s stop here and think for a moment. how is your wholeness? are you still hungry? what god do you have? ========================= on a happier note – winter arrived explosively tonight, with a storm, blizzard, snow…

another conjunction

even if living here, one is supposed to be proud of the winters with their cold and snow and blizzards and ice and whatnot, and sort of look down on the ‘southern softies’, i sometimes think that a more temperate climate would be an advantage. i am bored by monochrome. i want daffodils. but the…

lucidity

there is just one day every winter, when the second snow comes. on that day, the sky is white, the ground is white, and the branches are white. and the wide world suddenly is limpid, lucid, transparent. only the dark undersides of the branches point us upwards.

white

the first thing i noticed was this. the world was monochrome. the second thing i noticed was-were- the crows, sitting in the white trees like so many inquisitors, like a bunch of hooded bandits circling in on someone. when i opened my window, they left. judging by the aggregation of student works, winter is here.

snow sets in

Winter has set in rapidly and unexpectedly. As usual, actually. The world stopped for a moment, took its bearings, and ticked on. Slightly muffled by snow, this I have to admit.

Greyscale Riga

Looking out of the window. The city is greyscale. The streets are leaden-grey, the cars – all shades of oyster. The sun shines through those sulphur-grey clouds like a pearly eye, blind with cataract. The air has a tinge of iron in it. Maybe this is because of the early morning dusk. Maybe, because it…

snow and associated processes

Snow. The maddening whiteness of all the world. The tree-trunks, and arms and branches and twigs, all covered in snow, invisible against the pale greyness of the sky. The wee birds upsetting the frail balance of the snow clusters on the branches. The minute avalanches in the soundless out-of-the-window world. The sun peeping thru the…