November. The Returning Sky [Photos and Words]

Is it the path I came by, or the path I am taking?
Either way, it is a clear day today.

Filled with blue.

A circus of clouds,
tightrope walking in the void,
a transparent acrobat.

The picture the wind paints is whimsical.

Every time I see a contrail,
"Where are you headed?"
a thought sprouts.

It takes on a contour
as a fifth emotion.

Could it be that <wanting to go home> and <wanting to go far away>
are actually the same thing...?

Iridescent clouds,
rainbow clouds,
look, look closely at the center.

Nostalgia is
another name for the gravity
that draws us to something that does not exist.

----

<Nostalgia>,
once the name of a disease that spread among Swiss mercenaries,

homesickness.
"I want to go home. I cannot go home."
With an endless longing for their homeland, the soldiers looked up at the sky.

The sky has nothing to block it,
it continues to the homeland,
a path only for the wind and birds.

Come, let's go home.

Well?
To where...