Whispers on the wind
Oct. 25th, 2004 09:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fluffymarkFlutter Flap Flutter Flutter
In Persian mythology the butterfly is a restless spirit. A fragile and broken soul, unable to find peace, flitting about from place to place, striving endlessly to find the rest it needs, fluttering a ghostly afterlife in a beautiful yet fragile winged physical form. This tragic and pretty image makes me both deeply sad and in a state of sincere awe.
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daevas has written and recorded a song about the broken butterfly. It’s horrendously gorgeous and captivating.
I flitted around all over the land this weekend. Train windows not only reflect my face back at me, they reflect a view of the timeless world outside. Sloping fields and tiny villages speed past my image, or is it the other way around? Decay is in the air, crumbling red brick tunnels and bridges precariously span the line. We speed past abandoned bricked up mills and old church steeples. Twisted birds circle slowly in the grey glum skies, which smoulder an eerie shadow over the subdued land. Leaves having scattered from trees, now revealed as pointed skeletons in the cold light of day. The wind has stopped. Silence abounds, the world is waiting. You can feel it, almost touch it.
Winter is coming.
Something tells me this one will be colder than most. Deadly cold. But I smile and return to reading my book in the warm train. I’m moving onwards. Wherever the wind may take me.
In Persian mythology the butterfly is a restless spirit. A fragile and broken soul, unable to find peace, flitting about from place to place, striving endlessly to find the rest it needs, fluttering a ghostly afterlife in a beautiful yet fragile winged physical form. This tragic and pretty image makes me both deeply sad and in a state of sincere awe.
daevas has written and recorded a song about the broken butterfly. It’s horrendously gorgeous and captivating.I flitted around all over the land this weekend. Train windows not only reflect my face back at me, they reflect a view of the timeless world outside. Sloping fields and tiny villages speed past my image, or is it the other way around? Decay is in the air, crumbling red brick tunnels and bridges precariously span the line. We speed past abandoned bricked up mills and old church steeples. Twisted birds circle slowly in the grey glum skies, which smoulder an eerie shadow over the subdued land. Leaves having scattered from trees, now revealed as pointed skeletons in the cold light of day. The wind has stopped. Silence abounds, the world is waiting. You can feel it, almost touch it.
Winter is coming.
Something tells me this one will be colder than most. Deadly cold. But I smile and return to reading my book in the warm train. I’m moving onwards. Wherever the wind may take me.
Re: Winter is coming
Date: 2004-10-26 07:09 am (UTC)Yep I may be a little flopped on arrival - if I'm lucky I could prod Elly and Nick who now live close to Heathrow to let me stay at their place the night before, so I don't have to get up quite so early.
Am hoping to buy warm stuff to keep and not chuck it, as I'll need warm things for Tallinn and Riga in February, as it'll be almost as cold there. I'll bring a minimum of each (warm socks, warm mittens, warm hat, warm coat, warm jumper) and I'll buy more snuggly warm things soon after arrival. :)
You sound like you have personal experience in the tight jeans badness, dearie. :(
Quick remove clothing, eh? *ehem*
Am so excited about Poland. Yaaaay! Pity I'll miss you, but I've arranged to see your cousin in Warsaw tomorrow evening, so that will be ....odd. Can you be a star and remind me what your cousin's name is, as I've forgotten, and it'll be horribly embarassing to turn up and not know. I've been told she's nice. :)
Re: Winter is coming
Date: 2004-10-26 09:15 pm (UTC)