The cold wind freezing her face and messing up her hair kept her alert, it was a different sort of awakening. She could see and find joy in all the little things around her for a moment, without any sadness or regrets from her real life and her real self creeping into this still world of simplicity and happiness. The early spring day was sunny and calm, their boat, together with a few others scattered on the surface of the river were the only one disrupting the quiet afternoon, scaring away a few of the birds that remained there over the winter or had already managed to find their way back as soon as the snow disappeared.
“Look at it, it’s all so real, no need to cover up the branches in all sorts of bright shades and colourful noises, it’s all naked and true, not ashamed, not needing to hide its bareness.”
Adam had stopped the boat somewhere in the middle of the river, after having left all the other intruders far behind, just the two of them on the calm waters, keeping warm in each other’s arms.
“You like that… all the grey, all the desolation…”
“It’s not desolation, that’s potential, all the possible changes are under that grey; it just hasn’t made up its mind what to become next, what to pose as this year. The grey is the only constant, it always reverts to grey sooner or later, that’s its true self, its true nature.”
“Some would say it’s just a step on its way to green, colour is the eternal end of the line, into which it always evolves.”
“Not true… that’s not the real backbone, that’s just the pretty cover it hides under in order to put up a show every year. What does it become when it’s all tired, exhausted with its make-believe, once the good times are gone and it’s deserted and left to face all adversities alone? What’s the final stage, when there’s no more coming back, what’s the constant to which it reverts right before disappearing altogether?”
“That’s a bit sad…”
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