As I was cycling towards the river early this morning, the sun was about to rise. A gigantic salmon-pink cloud sailed in from the north-west, towards me. It occurred to me, for no logical reason and with no geographical rhyme, that it was destined for Hamburg. that is exactly where I pictured it, looming large over a hanseatic port in northern Germany. Hamburg. Or Lübeck, possibly. But certainly nowhere else.
It is good indeed, in these times of generalized dysfunction, to encounter such solid, irrefutable certainty so early in the morning. I believe we need these certainties, be they concerning the transient character and properties of a passing cloud.
And if at this point you find that can no longer follow my train of thought, well, then with regret I have to point out that your skills of empathy leave a lot to be desired. As if you had never dreamed on your way to work. And besides, am I to account for my subconscious ruminations? What is it with you?
Northwestern breeze playing the neck of my ink bottle like a flute.
Watch this space, as they say...
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