would the color of the clouds change if the light was turned on?

blossoms are soul food. the abundance of their beauty is a joy. it seems like they are blooming only to celebrate life and the magic power of renewal. I walk through the park in the morning, it's cold and rainy, the umbrella shields from the rain, yet the flowers show off their beauty like no cloud in the sky could ever stop them.

and i can't help it to think how life would be if my mental clouds would not stop me from celebrating the beauty of life.

would i smile. again.?

cold days, windy. the city feels grey, despite the new green leaves, exploding on each tree branch. i'm cold. i'm freezing cold. time seems to be a different beast and with a blink of an eye a day has dissolved. the repetitiveness of the supports the notion of timelessness ..

life feels like a roller coaster. it does. i have the feeling that these days everyone is trying to pull me into a different direction. While I'm the 'good' girl, trying to make it just right. An approach, that will fail. What is a guideline for right behavior if fear is my guidance. i'm aiming for being understood, while i'm accused for not being understanding. life is a roller coaster and sometimes there aren't any simple answers.

the gardens are beautiful. the blossoms and fresh new leaves are eye catching. the morning walk is soul food. hardly anyone can be seen in the park. at best some runners are crossing my way.

i am walking against time. every morning. and at night i am scarred. by lonely roads and the dark shadows. on weekends i go running myself, yet i'd rather avoid the park on weekends, it's crowed and the beautiful emptiness is disturbed. i wonder if i would enjoy lunch there.

three and half months late, Mieze returned.

small, vulnerable, very skinny.

my heard is filled with joy and love.

i love this little small cat, this old lady, this road warrior.

i wish she could talk and tell me what had happened in the last months while she was gone.

her return is a true miracle and it feels like she is telling me another life lesson, as she did the last two and half years..

Spring has arrived.

and dust particles from a volcanic eruption are dancing in heigh altitudes. the sky is blue and yet the black dust from the ongoing eruption is out there. high high in the sky. what we see is not reality, it is just an impression, a glance, an idea, an option. Here in the public gardens, the cherry blossoms have reached their peak, their might be fire works tonight, leaving traces of smoke in the air.