I can write about how I feel and what I’ve done and about moments and snippets of conversations and what I see as I walk through an airport. I’m not quite as able to transfer a landscape to a page: a painting in words.
But at this particular moment, if only I could describe for you this: brilliant orange sky seeping into everything: the clouds, the blue, the reflection on the water. White snow on the mountains. The ferries, white and green, slowly gliding by. Water everywhere, surrounding all of it. A tugboat, coming back from to the port. A flock of ducks, flying in unison.
And I think, not profound thoughts of nature and life and the joys of peaceful contemplation over work. No. I think, fuck, I’d better get focused on bringing in some money so I can enjoy this view for as long as I want.