irony and cows

Two pictures and a question 

 

update on the spiders:

... 

but twentyfour hours later

much has changed already

new nets have been woven

and a new prey has been killed

and then wrapped

time for an extensive

feast 

in tranquility

 

spider in the garden

On a rainy sunday afternoon

drops are falling

silently

slowly 

thinly spread 

but constantly

and in the garden 

next to flowers

on top of herbs

in all shades of green

there wait 

two spiders

for easy prey

for changing times

and maybe just like me

they wait for yet

another warm and sunny

early autum's day

one sits 

on broken lines

of his net 

that once was fine

but now is gone

beyond repair

another hangs all quiet

in the center of his kingdom

of his formidable trap

and all I can do is stare 

let the camera snap

and wait and see how drops 

bring further beauty but no crops

to symmetries

pearls and steps 

to my sunday reveries

instead of crossing the alps: giving up to climb higher

I wanted to walk from door to door. From Munich to Meran. Me and Myself into the central European adventure.

 

 

I wanted to cross the Alps and walk against the streaming of rivers

 

 through woods and valleys of bliss and beauty

But in the lowlands


one night and two days after the beginning
I had to give in
already
to excessive heat
to excessive weight
to excessive miles
to excessive want
on a long straight road where
once upon a time in a dark brown yesterday
people were stumbling out of a Lager into uncertain freedom
full of hunger and hopes
I gave up where they walked on

just to find myself on mountaintops
of prayers

 

 in the deep embrace of the woods and heights surrounding my hometown with the Dolomites fuming in the distance

sporting their advertising smile

 between clouds and sunshine

 

mirrors of silent beauty

and the depth of our selves

 

 

where twinkling details abound

and give you silence as a present/presence

 

 

ánd the over-saturated meadows of massive farming could so easily be forgotten

and the roaring of the motorbikes on alpine roads could be simply overheard

 

in exchange for a hug and a smile
and the deep conviction: not all is right but you may walk into that direction
 one step after the other
one breath after the other
now