There wasn’t a ghost of Christmas Past. There wasn’t a ghost of Christmas Present. And there certainly wasn’t a ghost of Christmas Future. It wasn’t even Christmas. But there was snow. Lots of it.
For the first day in March this probably wasn’t unusual for a few parts on Earth. But it was a bit unusual in Dresden, Germany. For the most part of Winter, there hadn’t been any snow at all. And now, that Spring was looming, not just a soft meadow of white was covering the roofs of the houses.
Everything was covered into a thick layer of white-turning-grey snow. Roofs, trees, street signs, the streets, bicycles and the hats of people – all white and cold and ready to freeze.
For most people, snow in March is like hell on Earth. And with reason. Snow means there isn’t any food out there. Because snow means, it’s cold out there and no food is able to grow in such circumstances. But any living creature is able to prepare for the cold. They can collect the food in the warm to keep it for the cold. And human beings are even able to survive a few days of cold, even if it happens at an unexpected time.
But there are other reasons to be concerned and frightened and, yes, perhaps also angry and annoyed about the cold and especially the snow on the first day of March. And mostly there were reasons of civilization.
Some people might have normal tyres on their cars already, thinking that snow season needs to be over at the beginning of March. Some people might have changed their winter shoes to spring shoes and now need to get their winter proven shoes back from the attic.
So, a lot of people are in a lot of self-made trouble when Winter returns just for one day in March.
But speaking of the attic, it’s always good to have another perspective on all things civilization. And when it’s cold outside, white on the streets and grey at the sky, those perspectives from the white covered rooftops can be freshening and clean, for the mind and the body. Because there isn’t just snow, there is also ice and crystals and this all around beauty the human breath is able to create.
It needs to be cold for you are able to paint on glass with your breath creating only one temporary available surface to paint or write a short message. And other people can make it readable again with their own breath, long after you are gone or just went away from the window.
What happens behind those windows on the other side of the street? If you are just standing long enough up there, this question will emerge rather sooner than later. Because when everything around you is covered in white snow, those black holes make the difference. Only they are able to give this opposite house any pattern and structure.
But what’s behind those black holes often doesn’t have pattern or structure. Sometimes it’s chaos; sometimes it’s monotony. Sometimes you are able to listen in your own house what might going on in the opposite one. And if you are able to hear something, mostly it isn’t something nice or comfortable.
So, it’s best to distract yourself from chaos and noise with those yellow or red worms that creep through this white landscape, formerly known as your home town.
First of all, those yellow worms aren’t worms to begin with. They could be if you are just high enough. Not on some rooftop but in a plane that’s just about to set down softly again for the end of your journey. If you look down on Earth from up there, those yellow worms creeping through the white winter landscape might really look like worms.
What an impressive sight that must be! Just imagine this pure white land, nothing else emerges before your very eyes. But suddenly there is this long yellow thing running around quite confidently.
Someone, something lives down there. There isn’t just this white emptiness. There is something else. Not everything is lost.
But you aren’t sitting in a plane. You are standing on a rooftop. So, you are able to go back down again – on ground level – where this yellow worm supposedly lives.
And you go down to follow the worms.
Down there this landscape clearly has got more structure. There are more patterns than you thought would be. Because snow falls down but not across. There is no snow on the walls. Just more black windows. And the cars are more colourful than imagined. But their own roofs are white and full of snow, of course, that’s why you weren’t able to see those cars at all while still standing on that far higher rooftop of your house.
Perspectives; they are important!
There are even people between two streets. They’ve got different minds. But you don’t know anything about it. Because there is this yellow worm again, perhaps not the same like before but it could be. Because it creeps its way into the opposite direction like coming right back at you. But it runs past, then stops. It collects people and some people have enough and leave.
And then it further diverges from you into the white landscape that is the more white the farther it’s situated from you.
Climate change is a frightening fact – or better: a process that can’t be stopped. Earth always had experienced colder or warmer periods of time during its existence in space. Even before human beings were just a thought and far beyond reality.
But humans think they are really and actually able to influence the climate, even the weather. There is a difference between native Americans practising rain dances, so it hopefully might rain and conquering Americans believing they can actually make it rain. Influencing the temperature is the main target of the white man and they believe in it like they still believe in God or Santa Claus.
And the climate change itself? It would laugh if it was human. At the arrogance and self-centredness of the human beings.
It would laugh at those round red signs with the white horizontal line that prevents cars and their drivers to enter the street from this very side.
It would laugh at those little stores with the name of the past and its horrendously overpriced products.
It would laugh at all those things the human beings think they are able to change when their actual ability to change something isn’t even measurable.
And with all those soft meadows of white snow, those tree blankets of fluffiness, the climate change laughs with sending all that down on the first of March. It probably laughed tears, got stuck into its hysteria that resulted in hiccups that created all those masses of white hysteria on Earth.
But there are parts that aren’t covered in snow. Those are mostly stones, covered in stones, surrounded by columns made of stone. And past it there are just other black holes some people might call windows. But they aren’t.
Those windows should be called traps or gateways to hell. Someone is standing in front of those columns of stone. He’s looking through them and finds only shadows behind those curtains. And if someone stands there for too long, the curtains will be closed.
And nothing will be like it was before.
Well, in case of the bicycle, that’s another story. Those silent and peaceful and dead creatures belong to human beings and they suffer through them. So, all those laughs and hiccups from up there sent the snow for cover – again. But not to disturb or anger the bicycles but to warm them and make human beings work for their ability to use them again.
But they won’t as long as snow would cover the streets.
Winter was for the yellow worms, and the rest for the bicycles.
Actually, yellow isn’t a colour for Winter. Red is. Or purple. Blue perhaps. But yellow is just a nasty nuance without structure. Dogs will see a pattern. While the colour itself adds nothing to a landscape covered in snow.
It’s disturbing and creates anger and makes people wish, this balcony would have been painted in blue or purple in the first place.
Or in red somehow. Just any other colour but yellow.
Because yellow is a sickness that can’t make for a good picture on it’s own. And still those architects thought it was a great idea.
At least, the people on the balcony wouldn’t have to suffer because of the colour. But no people like to be on balconies in Winter anyway.
Not many at last.
So, in turning back into movement direction, all the whiteness and blackness and their contrastness in between could only create one thing: pleasantness on the eye.
Until the silence around the lonely wanderer all of a sudden was cut open by disturbing noise. And this was followed by another yellow worm, now coming from behind. But it stays in line, on its very rails. It doesn’t come over to put the lonely wanderer out of his misery.
Experience will tell you that those yellow worms will always take this way. If you see this for the very first time and if the trails all almost fully covered in snow, so you hardly see those trails, feelings might be anxiety, dread and fear. Some alarming bells will go off in your head, even before your body realizes that those bells signal danger and forthcoming jeopardy. It’s that instinct that human beings have embodied and attached to them for millennia.
And it’s needed more than ever before with every more step one human being is able to take.
It comes in waves and it runs over you before the waves slowly recede again. It’s a process that you are able to get used to if you pay attention. So, slowly you will know that those worms alternate. They will creep around regularly from both sides. But since you are going into the same direction as one of those worms is crawling, there will be a time when two worms meet before your very eyes. If you stand still it shouldn’t happen but it will when one worm is too late.
Too early isn’t possible.
But if you are walking on, possibility is higher that at some point, you will be responsible for two worms meeting in the big white loneliness of snow.
Two worms somewhere, somehow will meet anyway. But if you don’t see it, if you don’t confirm with your very eyes – did it really happen?
Same goes for a falling tree into a huge forest. If there are no human witnesses, did the tree really fall? A rabbit or a deer doesn’t count. Because only the eyewitness of the human beings counts.
At least for human beings.
It might be different if you are a rabbit. Or a deer.
But there are no rabbits and no deer to begin with. Just one human being with the sudden ambition to at least once get the eyesight of two worms meeting each other if he simply walks on.
Of course, there are struggles on that way. The deep snow being one of them. Because the further someone goes, the deeper it gets and becomes. Because snow plow trucks are an endangered species and on the periphery of cities they are hardly seen at all.
And with every minute passing by into the new day, the snow will go softer and greyer and will mix up with water and dirt. At least, before your very feet. It’s better in the distance when you stop concentrating on the nearby surroundings and happenings. If you’ve got perspective, just use it. You don’t need a rooftop. Walking on can be enough. Because you will reach higher places without too much effort or strain. Then you can take a rest, have a look around you. And suddenly the snow and all that’s covered by it will appear as pure and white as ever before.
Sometimes it only looks this way. But sometimes imagination is enough for sanity and serenity.
You can trick your mind but not your body. If there’s reason for exhaustion, your feet and legs will tell you. And then it’s best to stop for quite some time to take in the inspiration that gathers around you before your very eyes. It might spur and distract you for some time. So you can go on to meet a dog.
Where there is a dog, there is his human companion. You’ll hardly meet a dog on its own. Because for a dog his human is king – or queen. While a cat always will be king to its human. But there won’t be cats in the snow. Because cats know when to go out and when it’s better to stay inside. The cunning of cats isn’t to mess with. But the dogs don’t have any choice. They are fed and got a home and in contrast have to go for a walk with their special and precious human.
A life to avoid. And the yellow worm seems to creep even faster when it runs past those two.
It’s almost like someone needs to avoid the laughter.
But then they are gone and what stays is just a thought.
Time for a new perspective.
You can go for it when you step between those rails. It comes with an actual feeling of thrill and suspense when you do that when you haven’t seen those yellow worms for quite some time. But it’s rather safe when the yellow worms just past by. So, you’ve got a few minutes to soak in what you see – this perspective you don’t have very often.
It’s not even close to the situation when you are caught between two stools. Then you would be trapped in the middle of an unresolved position. It’s a dilemma this way. And if those positions are two friends with contrasting concepts you can’t agree with neither, you are on the verge of losing both of those friends.
But that’s a figurative meaning.
In contrast, this very situation is a very real one. Standing between those rails is real. And it feels real. Because despite knowing that two yellow worms just past by, it could be that one is late and just about to creep about.
To know something is a rather vague concept. Because what can we know? Deep down, we know that we know nothing. So, the thrill and suspense is still there.
Because it’s an unsafe surrounding. Something could happen that we are able to avoid if we leave this surrounding. If we step right into it, someone else might call us crazy, a lunatic, not blessed with a thinking mind.
The little word if could have saved so many lives, if if would have done by certain people. It’s just a matter of stepping this one step back into safety at the right time and eventually before at least two options are still available.
And what can we learn from the different perspective of standing between those two rails? At least that our precious path was much saver to walk along.
But at the same time, it’s a strange feeling of heroism when you are back on the safe path, knowing that you survived the dangerous situation you brought yourself into just a blink of a moment ago.
Human beings sometimes are strange fellows. You have to know this by now if you’re old enough and met some of them already. And if you just avoided being caught by a yellow worm, you might be one of them.
Not one of the worms, of course, that’s still a far lower form of life. If there is any glimpse of breath left in them.
But right now, with stepping right back on track, leaving fresh footsteps where there weren’t any before, there couldn’t be more living breathing into this human life form that moves forward with a new found glimmer of enthusiasm.
What a change of perspective is able to do sometimes! Even if it’s just one step to the right to leave footprints where haven’t been any at all before.
Now it’s much harder to find those innocent spots of fresh fallen snow where you are able to leave your own footprints until temperatures will rise again and sun dries the Earth and erase those footprints together with the soft white blanket.
Covering up the before done evil; leaving your footprints on top of the rubbish of humanity; having it all removed by the sun because higher powers have other ideas. And this race for the covers starts all over again.
But in winter is no evil because it’s simply too cold, even for the creepiest souls on the planet. Even birds are leaving their traces in the snow and you can only hide if there’s a tree in a comfortable position.
The hanging trees of misrule and disguise. You can’t expect anything from them. But you are able to earn your place in the snow. Cover yourself, cover yourself up. And then walk on as if nothing happened.
There will be turns and twists on your road. But all of a sudden, there will be a path. A small one, hard to go but with an exciting goal: another perspective, of course.
And isn’t that what it’s all about? Perspectives! We’ve already discussed. So, let’s just enjoy this new one.
From atop you see
more snow but thee
fare well to flee
Gee, gee, let’s go
through dirty snow
don’t miss the show
Isn’t it poetic, almost lyrical? I’m not speaking of the sad poem that was just created by a cold brain but watering eyes. So, reality appeared in a blur and words formed somewhere deep down in the flesh and needed to go out, make it to the public where was none.
Words drifting through space, through icy air to transform into crystals. They move up, go through the winter metamorphosis and dance down again on top of this newest creation of the population of yellow worms.
But it’s save now from where you stand. It’s a little off the main road, this larger path where you’ve been coming from. Side stepping into grass in summer but dead wood in winter, now blessed with the white cover, you climbed atop and waited patiently.
Hands rubbing against each other to keep them warm, looking for the worm. And when it reaches out, it just turns in the last second, passing by in full speed, swaying away from you to make it clear: I don’t need you. Because I just run my way. But you are standing there, waiting for me, trying to search for connections that aren’t there.
Somehow, those yellow worms are almost like cats.
And when the worm is gone with just leaving a thought behind, you are still standing there. Because you know, that the other worm has to reach soon. You’ve gone in this direction for quite some time already. So the point of meeting isn’t there. But it’s close. You can feel it, almost smell it.
So, waiting becomes a habit. But it’s always needed for a good picture. Or two pictures, three, four.
Your decision is made when you slowly hear the sound of the approaching worm. It’s a yellow one – again. It’s lowering his side to the opposite direction. And it goes to the other side of the city – the opposite periphery. This yellow worm fills the frame even more. And it sounds closer.
It’s a wild worm, this one. It’s even written on its forehead. But it’s past you as soon as the last one. No difference here.
Except for one. Picture for picture for picture for picture for picture. Instead of one smoothly moving. But apart from this, all is one and one is fine.
When the snow settles (when the dust clears), everything is of the purest white again. And it’s time to leave the wilderness to step back into the ordinary world that still looks so different than usual.
In past times, almost one quarter a year was looking like this, like a wonderland, a white and clean and frosty country. A landscape of change and of cleaning rest. The real worms died and never crawled back up into the world.
But those days are over and stay in the past. If a day like this does happen now, it’s of this rare occasion that it needs a short story and a video to actually believe that it happens.
And still it looked like a miracle. Like those icy and colourful sparkles you see when looking into the sun for too long. Even if you read several times and look for a couple of times more, and then you look outside and there is green grass again and muddy roads to fill the picture. Nothing looks hardly near that day you experienced and felt and smelled and looked at just days ago.
It’s wonderous and sadly miraculous that it feels like this. Because one day per year clearly isn’t enough.
At least, it happens occasionally. So, make sure that you experience and feel all of that at once – on this very day – so you can craft your skills to tell and draw pictures from your brain to paper for memories more worth sharing than anything else.
Experiencing from atop is my favourite perspective. So, I’m searching for another opportunity that also changes the perspective of the dear yellow worm.
It comes with great surprise that civilization still does exist with just some more steps into the same direction. There’s a blasphemous looking worm station where rails and road meet street and road from a different direction. And there’s another small lane up to a viewpoint made for summer.
Because there’s a bench where old people can have a rest from the walk after lunch on Sundays. In winter the bench is there for the snow to gather and rest until warmer temperatures and the sun do their killing part.
I’d like to think that people one day have built the bench for the snow. But that’s not very likely. But, of course, the snow enjoys being right now, so I keep standing and observe the newest yellow worm approaching from the direction where I’ve been coming from.
And it makes an interesting approach indeed. One man is leaving when the worm stops, no-one entering. And on the other side there are four humans waiting for the worm about to carry them into the opposite direction – they’re not even watching or looking at the other worm. It seems like they only see the useful part. And if it’s not useful to them, they act like it doesn’t exist.
So, the yellow worm rolls on again, of one man short but a short meet-up with a bus. It also wears a red scarf which makes it look more comfortable in this cold world of humans and ignorance.
Stairs lead down to rail level again whoever wants to be there. And I do wanted that. There’s another turn in my walking direction, so I almost missed the worm from the other side. It arrived earlier than I have been able to walk down the steps. But it’s a nice worm. Because it waited for me to document its departure.
And off it went again.
All humans are off with the worm as well. And the worm station is left behind empty and swept clean from any human existence. It’s not a bad sight though.
Now, with those two yellow worms – the one with the red scarf – gone, there was time for me to walk on as well. There was still a point to catch, the point of meet-up between worms. So, I crossed the street this time and went slightly uphill.
On my left I passed the power supply station for the worms, or its food supply station. Without it, all worms would die slowly and no-one would really care, except for those humans who use to use them for transport.
Of course, other humans, smaller and younger ones, have used the station as a big canvas for their colourful graffiti. And until it’s whitewashed again, it remains to make the food station appear both young and brazen at the same time.
But it won’t be whitewashed. Because that would require care from those humans in charge. And they would only care if it was in the city, where human tourists are coming to. Here in the southern periphery no-one cares. And that’s not always bad.
There’s another thing that’s not bad about this very place. Yes, one great change of perspective, you’ve guessed that right. But this is an important one. First of all, there is this tower right on the edge of a small park, usually green but all white, of course, during that one day of winter in the whole year, still the first of March, how ridiculous it sounds.
So, there is this tower. And you can judge its existence from bottom to the top, if you take your time and leave the worms for once. It’s kind of protected by the trees around it. And still you are able to look at the white city in the distance if you go on top.
That wasn’t for me at that day though. Because I still had this other and only one goal in mind. And that was witnessing about the meet-up.
And I almost succeeded but fairly failed.
The yellow worm from above; the red one just seconds later from the other side. It was written that those two would meet just where I was standing. But someone threw away the paper.
At least, I noticed something else about the yellow worm. You may have already noticed that there is a lot of advertising planted to the worms. But it’s only used on one side. The side from where humans would enter or leave the worms, so they are able to look at all the services and facilities they are exhorted to use.
Humans who are standing on or walking by the other side, are able to enjoy the plain pure yellow worm side. And that’s a pleasing sight for every eye. Especially when you are confronted with the opposite extreme just seconds after it. Because the first red worm of this day left me shocked behind. The poor red worm had its right side planted full of advertising.
It really left me shocked that much that I needed a far bigger change of perspective. I needed to leave the street for a while. I needed to leave the worms.
I needed to go deep into the small park and way behind it.
So, I left the tower, just gave him another look over my shoulder and only turned towards it again when I met the snowman, erected just minutes before, I supposed.
The snowman was a rather big lad but he still didn’t contrast much from his surrounding. Because, of course, there was snow everywhere, although a lot of it had been used to create the very snowman.
But there was still the tower, too, and with a little change of perspective, it could be used perfectly as a contrasting canvas for the cold guy with the cheeky grin.
From the other side of the park there was a great view down the street – only usable for cars, there weren’t rails for the worms – that led right into the centre of the city. Far in the distance your sight was able to give a vague idea of it, a few tiny houses with snow covered roofs. There was hardly any contrast there and also the street was narrowed by the cold conditions, with cars almost as white as the setting they had been left in.
But that was too far away and didn’t fit my preferred goals that day. That looked too city-like, too much civilization. At this point, when I had been standing on the edge of that park, looking down at the periphery of civilization, I already knew about my next target. I knew where I wanted to go next.
But right now I was still standing in that park, so I turned and went back deeper into it again.
There is a certain beauty and mystery about wood in winter. Most of your surrounding is hidden but the traces of every little animal are out there, plain and clear right in front of your eyes. So, those animals are both hidden and bare at the same time.
Some people might see some similarities between white wood and sand desert. The first only existing in the cold or in the North; the last existing all year but only on certain spots on this planet.
So, the white wood still has got signs of civilization, even though most of them are covered with snow, so are temporarily not for use.
Like those artificial benches again. Old people like to walk through the park when spring sends its first small flowers or when the trees provide cooling shades during hot summer days. Then, the benches aren’t covered. Old people are able to sit down to rest and enjoy the occasional squirrel being nosey.
But right now, in cold whiteness, the only colour visible originates from graffiti on a nearby bin. It’s also covered with snow but still usable since the covering looks doughnut shaped.
Just throw your rubbish right through the doughnut. Lovely.
It’s moments like these with strange connections happen in your mind, that change is desperately needed. Just one look back onto the peacefully appearing togetherness of snow and trees; then you set foot back next to the street again.
But it’s only a short way through civilization, this red worm comes back and passes you, and then you enter something that brings complete different connections to the mind.
The cemetery on the periphery of human existence.
A separate place for the dead to rest. Separated from the living – some may call it the cemetery of dreams. For eternal resting, there is eternal dreaming. All that you ever experienced in life, all that you cared for and all that you dared, you will relive as alternative existence, for seconds and minutes and hours and years, on and on – for ever.
Separated from the living dead. It really is a nice vision.
There is a special dignity and majesty all around when you enter a cemetery. Every single one has got its own single way to handle the grieve and pain that relatives go through if they have to escort their father or mother on their last path on Earth. It’s only hard for the living though; it’s nothing to grieve for or feel pain about by the dead.
They’re happy now, believe me, even though they may haven’t trusted religions about eternal life after death.
They are happy now.
And how could they not? Just look at those peaceful paths! Look at the nice entrance building that appears like an ancient temple. Look at all the company one single dead does have got. Even if you have been alone during life, you will always have company during death. And it always will be tolerable company because everybody around you will be as silent as you are.
The next street is far away. You won’t hear any car. There are no playing children. And it’s a nice idea to have flowers grow from your remains. A well to water your bones from. So, even if you haven’t done any good as a living human, you can do good as a dead. Provided that you’ve got relatives who dare to care for you when you are dead and buried.
Modern cemeteries don’t have those big statues any more. They don’t have grieving angels or the suffering body of Jesus Christ. There is much more reality chiselled to those tombstones. But also the occasional stone that plays with impossibilities and eternity. When a square fits a circle, for instance.
There are much more symbols of eternity and impossibility on modern cemeteries than stony witnesses from the past. Especially in communities where there’s not much religion left.
It’s actually an interesting concept that people who were Christians in life, often will have tombstones that refer to a past. They have got angels grieving for them. When there should be joy?
If those people have been Christians in life, they should have earned eternity now, sitting happy on their cloud, surrounded by other happy souls. So, why the grieving? Because for most living people who somehow died, death was a huge relieve. It saved them from sickness, from boredom or simply old age. So, death did good to them.
And there is still the grieving.
But there’s a simple reason for it: those grieving statues symbolize all the relatives who are still trapped on Earth, who still need to live without the dead human. While those modern abstracts are hopeful symbols that maybe eternity might still be for everyone, despite not believing in religions and their representatives.
What’s always left is peace and silence. It’s what human beings crave for in life but never really get. It comes for free when they step over that line that separates the dead from the living.
For the living, when it’s too silent, too peaceful, they can’t stand it. At some time, they need to leave the peace again to step away from the separated cemetery out on the street.
Now they crave for the noise again, the dirt and the snow.
And right here, on that same street but a little closer to the periphery of the city and much closer to the very end, buses and worms share the same path. They’ve got their own road no longer. The climate changes here, too, and brings out a harder reality that makes human beings move closer and most of times they put on a fist fight when they should hug each other.
Climate changes obviously aren’t for everybody. Most of times we would be able to afford the clothing but said clothing isn’t available. And then, reality will offer mirrored images of orange worms that come for us from unexpected directions.
We see a lovely vision but it’s just a hideous face when it comes closer. And history always comes twice, but second time as farce. When reality hits you, it’s always too late. Sometimes you are still able to see the taillights. But the future got past you regardless.
So, let’s just crawl back into the forest, into a sea of the white of winter. Let’s return to beauty and the Christmas past. Let’s strike our faces with nasty little twigs. Let the snow rain into our clothes and under our skin when it comes down from those crowns of trees that know what’s coming and what to expect.
But this little human can’t read the signs. It just sees beauty in front of his very shoes. Not far in the distance, there’s a nearby horizon. Those path through the snow seems to be well walked on but it’s deserted now.
No other human appears in the snow. Just traces.
Just traces. While time is on the go.
But wherever you go, where’s an end, there is a new beginning. And where you can go deep, you can come out somewhere else. And when you leave the forest, you may have to climb a ladder first, but then a new perspective opens before your eyes. And there’s always time to judge.
Nothing needs to be decided in an instant. Have a look, read deep. Pick someone’s brain, and most importantly: have a thought.
Whatever is out there, is reality.
And what can’t be said, needs to remain a thought.
You don’t need to forget but think about if it’s really useful and needed to talk about.
Sometimes it’s better to look on, just change perspective, let your eyes wander and then, just turn and move back.
Because, if you go back the way you just went along, back to the next turn, you can take another path, move forward again around another corner. It might be a step back first, maybe one or two. But rather sooner than later, there will be something interesting, even exciting. And you only got to see it with the right amount of patience.
Like this tower that somehow found it’s way to make itself noticeable to you despite being surrounded by trees, almost a forest, and you self standing right in the midst of it, usually without any given chance to pick this very sight because it needs a free vision.
But maybe not everything is dull and dark.
There are sights and views, even visions, basically everywhere. You’re surrounded by them. You only need to find the right spot from where to watch.
The right perspective.
The right place to stand on.
And everything else simply is a path of enlightenment.
The owl is the bird of wisdom. It will make sure that you know that you’re on the right track. And the track might be a stairway that you can walk up, accompanied by snow, of course. And sometimes this way won’t be easy. Certain signs just make sure that your previous choices have been the right ones. But they won’t guarantee a laughing pootle.
Don’t expect a laughing pootle!
I dare you.
But you don’t, you promise. And you are earned by another view to the chimney. It doesn’t look much different than the view before. The wind blows stronger; your fingers are almost frozen from the cold. But you decide to stay here a little longer. But not until you grow old.
There will be something else, you decide. Something different and exciting. So, you take your time to see what’s already there.
A padlock. How fitting. At least to this scene: a smoking chimney right in the middle of an old factory from red times.
Something red you’re looking for. That’s for sure. You already get this feeling.
Just stay on. Just keep on waiting. It will be worth it.
But first, you let your eyes wander, along the street, for this one bug.
You clearly see it; it wants to be seen. One little and dark bug moving forward on the road towards his tunnel, to tunnel its way to safety, where it can’t be run over by other and much bigger bugs.
But those are views to the other side of your sight. Keep it closer; let’s see nearer, just down there, in front of you. The circulating water of the river, making its way through and against the weir.
The weir of water.
The water breaking through the weir.
The bridge with three arches leads over dead water. But it comes to life right after it left the weir. That tells you everything you need to know about life. Simply look at this scene, be glad about the water and follow its way.
Not upside down, of course. Just keep looking for a glimpse of time. Change direction again, warm your fingers, so you are prepared to document this newest form of worm.
Another red one that’s crawling along the rails. Make it simple; keep on looking. Remember what you just witnessed. But forget the padlock.
Please, forget the padlock.
It’s not an advice; it’s an order. Because when you are suddenly standing on the shores of a lake, it might just be a pond. But you still need to be careful.
Keep your eyes watching, preparing to react for anything ridiculous and unexpected to happen.
Always be prepared; always expect anything and everything. Maybe, sometimes, it will save your life.
And you might reach the point of your journey, when this save forest and the funny pond just have limited horizons. When you feel imprisoned and not save at all. Because you miss perspective and the ability to see and feel a distance.
When you grow sad
About people going mad
Lunatics are crazy
And politics lazy
You think about crimes.
Because sometimes you need the wide countryside. Sometimes you don’t want to hide your feelings and demands. Sometimes certain things need to be said, otherwise you turn mad. And that’s never a good state your mind could get itself into.
Sometimes, it’s the little things in life that change everything. Some unexpected happiness makes us realize that not everything is lost yet. That there is still some glimpse of hope for humanity.
Even though it gets tinier and tinier…
Every single second that this poor planet circulates further.
There’s no stopping.
But then, there is this ridiculously ugly little snowman, right in the midst of nowhere.
And you smile.
Like a lunatic.
Because this poor sad thing looks so crazy that I just like to take it home with me.
There’s a small observatory standing in this area, right on the edge of the wide plain whiteness. It’s not exactly correctly clothed for its surrounding because some humans – again – thought that it would look good in colours.
They were wrong.
But it still can’t take away anything from the small and ugly snowman. Because everywhere I go, it’s there, at least on the horizon. It seems to wave at me from every side and every corner. It even tops the observatory in character when you look at both of them from a far away distance.
Yes, I do smile when I see this snowman; when I look at it, everything else seems unimportant, almost non existent. Don’t mess with your feelings when you meet one. Because this one, like any other snowman in this world, as ugly as it may be, was only created by humans. They went out into the cold, into this plain white area. They put on the work – and, yes, also the fun – to create this snowman out of something that was only there for one day.
One winter day in Dresden, on the first of March. The very next day, everything was gone already. Where had been snow the previous day, was only a grey puddle a few hours later. And the snowmen were still standing. But hard on the edge of singing their last goodbyes.
Snowmen are created by humans, just to melt down by the sun. Isn’t it heartless to create something from what you know it won’t have a long life?
Merely days, maybe hours. And then it’s all gone. Melted into the earth.
It came from the clouds, from pure weightlessness, was formed into a body that looked like it lived. But before anything else was able to happen, the sun did the creator’s final work: it destroyed its creation.
What is it with snowmen that they need to be destroyed? Every little one of them. It might be a miracle if it wasn’t physics. The circle of life – in this case: water – summed up in a nutshell.
It’s never easy to get away from a snowman. Because you know it could be the last you’d see from it.
Are there snowwomen in this world? Watch out for them or create them yourself. Or just…
Think of them. Imagine. And hold them in mind – over a rainy summer.
Because there’s no winter service, like this sign suggests. There won’t be any plowing, clearing or gritting because work is expensive and money doesn’t exist. At least, it doesn’t grow on trees or hangs from rooftops. So, there’s no winter service. And that’s good.
At least for all the snowmen and snowwomen out there. It’s not good for the older people who want to go out for a winter walk – a walk in winter through the snow. And to this very formation that makes you think of the old poem:
Will you ever grow?
Will you always blow
Think about unity
Keep your own sanity
Work for our future
Build this damn structure
It’s called The Tall Stone. It’s not very tall though but it’s made from very interesting stone that is able to lead us back to a time about one hundred million years ago.
In Cretaceous temperatures have been much higher, so there was a sea, perhaps an ocean where its only water is the snow in winter in modern times. Water has long gone but there are still traces of its past existence.
This rock formation you are able to read like you would read a book. You can read it from top to bottom and from outside to the inside. In both directions you read from the present time to the earliest time of its creation. And you’ll find marine creatures of all sorts: mussels, their shells and scallops, marine reptiles, ammonites and rudists.
All of them are the surviving relics of long distinct creatures that once lived here, long before humans set their feet on this very place where I was standing.
You are even able to climb up on top of The Tall Stone. You’ll have a great view over the huge ocean, if you’ve got a working imagination. Look at those fossils, preserved in the stone. Imagine those shells as living creatures.
See for yourself and start to wonder: will there be something left from us in one hundred million years? Any relics or fossils?
All of our wisdom will go straight to electronic books. It moves to clouds. And in one hundred years of time, there won’t be any books left. And some time, somewhere in the future, there won’t be any electricity left.
And those electronic books will be gone, swept away in their clouds.
And with them all our wisdom…
Will be gone.
What’s left of our present time, when this ocean comes back and surrounds The Tall Stone with its water?
Nothing and everything. A new beginning.
And the past is the future.
But before we can cross that line, before we can leave the past to meet our future, there are barriers to overcome. Those gates are closed when we reach them. So we need to find a way around.
Or a key perhaps. The key to open the gates to make our life a flooded pasture. Flooded with the glory of this white and sparkling snow. Because with sun there is light and it will make shine and reflect in those tiny ice crystals that in their entirety is called: snow.
But with going forward, there is more responsibility. You can grow stronger, then you’ve got to save some. Or you can earn more money. Then you need to ask to help some. If you’ve got too much of something, you can’t just keep it all to yourself.
Maybe it’s called earning. But do people really earn something? After all, someone is given something but it doesn’t mean, he earns it. Most of time, someone is given something because the one who gives hopes he’s given back something else at another time in the future from the one whom he just granted the very earning.
So, it’s not earning; it’s just circulation between a few people who’ve made an agreement between each other at some time in the past.
But that’s not the matter. Because people who think they earn something, don’t see the beauty that’s in those ice crystals. Maybe they see the snow but in seeing the snow, they only see the money.
Let that sink in and earn this wisdom.
Earning people always drive along the street; they certainly won’t take the little path that runs along it, hidden by trees, covered in snow. But there are certain traces by other people and bicycles and animals that crossed this path a while ago. And all of those are able to hide behind those snow covered trees when the red worm appears again to make them shudder. Not because of the cold but because they were drawn back to reality.
And climate change exists
It always has
It always will be
There will be people who don’t
Believe their own lies
But when they make up their lists
Take money whereas
Poor people still be
Whatever rich they want
For someone dies.
It doesn’t make sense when you look at the words. Just notice the rhymes when someone cries and another lad dies.
Poems really aren’t made for serious points to take over. Rhyming language always sounds cute and is never taken seriously.
So, here is my advice: don’t use rhymes when you talk about climate change. Because when you do, someone starts laughing. And very soon, everyone else will join in.
Rhymes don’t have a great image today. You appear as a clown if you use rhymes and cute language for your brand. Just look at commercials and start to cringe.
Out here, it’s easy. Because simply walk on. Walk on through those trees. Walk on along the hanging gardens. Walk on and use the trellis lane to your advantage.
Then stand still. Turn. And look at this worm halt from the other side. With the crest of the city, the black lion on golden background. Look at it and start to wonder once more. About change. And reality. And all the little things in between.
Because you clearly have to look through the alabaster glass. Clearly. For a moment you smile about the pun. But then you try to be serious again – to yourself and the world you live in.
This one Tuesday of Winter – only one day of snow in this one year. Change is obvious. Probably it won’t be permanent. But who knows?
Who knows about the future when no-one is able to remember about what happened just minutes ago?
No-one can, believe me. Not the objective way. All living creatures on Earth are just able to remember the subjective way. And that’s never the correct way.
We live. And we live on. Forget the most. And hardly remember what’s memorable.
So, looking through the milk glass is important and eye-opening. Because it makes us look on closely, pay attention – notice the details.
We sharp our wisdom and try to see things behind things: stones beneath the snow; the worm behind the milk glass.
And after a while we realize that there is change as well. Because the colourful side is the side we see. Maybe there’s a colourful side on the other side, too. But we can’t look through the worms or around a corner. We just see through the milk glass and that’s enough change for this very moment.
Actually, who wants change at all? Everybody just wants the same every day. Animals and humans hate change. But still so many people say they want it when they actually don’t.
And politicians talk about people wanting change when it’s only them, they want it. And at the end of it all, no-one wants it for real.
And that’s why we like to walk on again, walk on through the snow, surrounded by those white trees, hugged by powerful breathing that puts us in something safely and comfortably numb. It’s kind of cosy. If you’ve got the right clothes on, you will be able to enjoy it.
Breath in – breath out. And those little clouds around your mouth will cover you closely.
Not everything is bad, you know? The world can come to its end and you will still find something you can enjoy. Because the world won’t finish with a bang like it didn’t start with one.
You may have heard from the Big Bang that some scientists call the beginning of the world as we know it. As if the universe needed to introduce itself with some deafening voice.
After all, there is no noise in the universe. There was no Big Bang. If anything like that, it was a Slow Whisper. And even that would have been heard.
But again: there is no noise in the universe. Not even a sound.
If you are the last living creature in all of possible space, you won’t be heard. It will be like you don’t exist at all.
If a tree comes down in the forest and there is no-one around to witness, there won’t be any noise.
And if you are alone, standing somewhere on Earth, surrounding by nothingness, you can scream and yell and blast any slur out you ever heard of – no-one will hear you, so there is no noise.
Life didn’t come to existence with a Big Bang. It just happened during a slow and very silent process. And where life began, no-one is ever able to measure. And where life will end, no-one will ever notice. Because when it’ll happen, the last living creature that could possibly witness, will be somewhere else and won’t have the chance to see it. Basically: the last living creature won’t know when the end of the world will take place when it’s taking place.
It will be like a breath of wind, a whisper in the willows.
And the moment the last breathing creature on Earth senses that something big might go on, it’s gone.
Walk on, worm, walk on.
Feel the scrunching snow beneath your boots. Listen to the snowflakes fluttering down on top of their brothers and sisters. Walk fast enough to connect with your own relatives, even though you don’t know them or haven’t seen them before. But somewhere around the supposed Big Bang every little cell that will be part of a human body in the very far future, originated from a small little pond somewhere in space. Every human form today is related with any other human form now breathing.
So, catch up with your relatives and start a snowball fight. You will get to know people by that habit far better than by speaking one single word.
Start forming snowballs and throw them at people without any warning.
Snowballs for guns and the wars will be so much more pleasing and with greater results.
You say, there isn’t any snow in the Sahara? There is no snow in the Near East? There is hardly any snow in South America?
Well, no snow, no snowballs, no fights – no war.
It’s a dream, a fantasy that only happens in my mind, I know. Dreams can happen though, if you only take your dreams with you and make them happen. If dreams survive the night, anything is possible. But do not continue to dream. Walk on and take your dreams with you. Keep them in your heart, you worm!
Birds are falling from the rooftops when you walk by and make the mistake to greet them. The creatures are confused by all that snow and they wonder what might have happened over night. You can hear them or you don’t hear from them at all. It all depends on their character and your own ability to listen to anyone else but you.
Keep track with your thoughts. Because there will be a time when you can’t be sure any more. Of anything. People will look at you as if you are crazy. And more and more your thoughts won’t be shared. More and more your thoughts only belong to yourself. And no-one will ever believe you any more.
It’s called age and any human being has to suffer. Perhaps you might call that climate change, too. And there’s nothing wrong about it. Despite, from climate change everyone has to suffer, not just this one human being in its own special way.
But those who erect buildings, high towers to have a better view and more power, will suffer less than anyone else. Because when it comes to climate change – in the literal as well as in the figurative way – money does matter. It’s not what the people of wealth tell you. It’s how you personally experience it.
People are able to suffer from anything and everything. But when it comes to actual climate change, people can be out there doubting that process is ongoing.
People of fortune like to live in a fast world. And if something doesn’t happen to their own speed, it doesn’t happen at all.
It’s actually funny that people of money are called like this: people of fortune. Because the very Latin word fortuna actually means luck. And people with money indeed were lucky – to be born into a rich family, to be born at the right time and place to make a business successful, to be lucky getting away with fraud or theft.
Go there and climb the towers of the Earth and look at all those people ignoring the fact that climate change is just around the next corner. For some the way towards it might be longer than for others. But everyone will be there, eventually.
From up there, you are actually able to look around several corners. You’ve got another view, a different view from most people down there. And if you are lucky, you can see the worm coming for you, crawling towards you, passing by you without taking any notice from you or recognition that you exist.
Call the day lucky when you won’t be noticed
Call the day sad when someone is missed
Call the day rightful when someone is saved
Call the day over when everyone behaved.
Yes, there is the right time and place for everyone living. But unfortunately, no-one is able to take this very spot right from the beginning. Some have to work for it, they need to move, learn another language. It’s harder today because we know of more possibilities. And sometimes the possibilities we have chosen, simply aren’t behind the next corner. As much as we work for them, they aren’t placed where we are able to reach them within a one-day march or a one-day drive. Sometimes we only get to them with a one-day flight or a life-long struggle.
With climate change everything is possible. It simply needs the right people for it.
And if you are a worm, you will suffer your entire living existence on Earth.
Because for a worm like this, there are human-erected rails. The path is drawn and the worm just knows this one way, forth and back, forth and back, it’s entire life without questions.
It neither looks left nor right, just straight, maybe back at some point to make sure it’s still on the road to nowhere. And that can be a pleasant experience. Because what the worm does, the worm knows best. It’s an expert for ignoring any change out there. It goes its way, just on and on. And as long as it’s able to do that, nothing needs to change and nothing does change.
At least for the worm.
There was one day in March, the first of the month, when climate change seemed to peak around the corner. It covered the city in snow and made the worms suffer. Nothing was funny; everything was white.
But the worms still crawled through that landscape without looking.
Colourful? White? Dark?
Does that matter? Not for the worms because they are unable to see contrasts or deeper meanings. They crawl across the surface and know nothing at all about brighter places or black caves.
Climate change is a whirlwind of thoughts. Because there aren’t any ways, nice prepared paths towards it.
Climate change isn’t a change, it’s a process. And for some people: a religion.
Most people have already found their own religion or they were told to believe certain things. Some others have been born into theirs. And all of them didn’t need to think about what’s right or wrong.
Just look at this snow for one last time: it’s a passing beauty it’s coming with. And if we won’t take notice, this beauty might be gone soon.
My first intention to do this project was the snow I experienced on the first of March in 2016. All winter there had been hardly one day of snow but there – right at the start of spring – there was this one day. I simply love snow and I enjoyed my walk while taking the photos and videos with my smartphone. So, yes, there wasn’t any high technology involved. Hence the poor quality sometimes.
Come November, I have written the text as one of my two NaNoWriMo projects. There all quotes in the video come from. Then I raided the free music on the internet (the soundtrack that you can find below) and arranged all the photos, videos, quotes and music to the film. Hope, you enjoy. And if you’ve got anything to say, please use the comment section on this page. Cheers!
- Jason Shaw, 30 Second Classical
- Jason Shaw, Atlantis
- Dokapi, Ballet in the Deep
- Orquesta Arrecife, Galaxia
- Blue Haired Girl, Morricone
- Jason Shaw, Antarctica
- Jason Shaw, 30 Second Classical, feat. Alan Rickman (from: The Barchester Chronicles, ep. 3)
Photos and videos taken on the Kalends of March a.d. MMXVI
Written between the Kalends of November and XVI days before the Kalends of December a.d. MMXVI
Film arranged between VI days before the Ides of December and the Ides of December a.d. MMXVI
Word count: 10,057