The swal­lows were with me for twenty minu­tes. What would the sky be like if they, like the planes bisec­ting on the skies above, left vapour trails behind them ? But no, the only imprit they left was in my mind, invi­si­ble rib­bons spoo­ling through me for an ins­tant, then gone, only to be repla­ced by ano­ther, appea­ring from the left, disap­pea­ring to the right. The sun cat­ches one of the apart­ment buil­ding, the one with the dia­go­nal bal­co­nies that lean in dif­fe­rent direc­tions, and all its win­dows are rose gold. And I am remin­ded that this fee­ling could be avai­la­ble at any moment - if we make our­sel­ves open to it and take the time and space to let it in - where the world - and all the magic within it - is focu­sed in and through and around us.
With many thanks