Thursday, January 7
... the tip of your nose is always the same
A string of lights snakes its way along the highway. There's something grounding for me about driving through the night. Traveling the land through light speckled blackness. The passenger train makes it's way through the mountains beside us. And I feel exactly the same here as I have on so many other night drives. Different car, different country... even different company... but my core settles into that same comfortable place. It softens and forgets where it is for a while.
Maybe that's why I find myself staring too closely at the most common things. The world at the tip of your nose is always the same. At least that's how it strikes me. Like I'm staring at elements. Same carbon, same hydrogen. The way water droplets form on spiderwebs. Grains in the stone and plaster. Leaves. Empty bag of chips.
And city lights in the night. The blackness of night hides the landscape, so shockingly different. Or shockingly the same. Night is night is night. And lit windows from a passenger train.
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I am more and more impressed at the way you capture image and feeling together in post after post.
This is beautifully written. I can remember the feeling you so eloquently describe.ReplyDelete
I do so love the way you put your words together!ReplyDelete
Its the same the world over. The night. the day. the sun and the moon !ReplyDelete
Well, the tip of the nose...that may be different !
Poetry in prose. Lovely.ReplyDelete
I see what you see...
Atoms bouncing everywhere yet nowhere. The train keeps moving though, unstoppable.ReplyDelete
I kind of feel like that about my toes.
i like the micro-macro take on things here...ReplyDelete
everything contained in a moment, and the tip of the nose...