051: It is Noon

Perched on the wall, I see the world. I see yesteryear's grass, bent and yellowed, covering the ground, and I see green shoots and brown soil. In the ditches there is greyed snow. Along the shore, the waves wash in, polishing the rough edges of stones and glass until they are all round and smooth. Seaweed bobs in the surf. A red crab with purple spots on its shell raises its claws towards the sun. It is a homage to the noon of this world. Across the fjord, in the dip between the mountains, I see the afternoon, and further still the evening. They are waiting. But for now, it is noon.

Written by: Katrine H.