Day after day, everything looks as if we don’t move. When I look back, today was the same as yesterday, and yesterday as the day before, and so backwards. Yet, when I turn back a couple of years, nothing is as it was before. Same people, different conversations and a tone of voice is somehow changed. Same letters we use but they assemble different words. So, I wonder, are the pictures that we paint in our own heads while we’re looking through the same window real? What do you see?
above the rooftops
sky sprinkled with gold
Linked to Carpe Diem #1046 dawn