the roses cannot yet comprehend, but the angry in dark tones coloured sky decides it is time for frozen snow to fall from it, lingering when reaching the ground, the hardness not wanting to enable the melting, the from nature given form fighting for its initial shape until the last second.
and then it happens, the contact has been made. and step by step, silently but surely, almost unnoticed by inattentive human eye, every living existence begins its transformation, shaping according to the change, proving its ephemerality.
it caught me on the streets of the old center in Linz, it caught me in the somnolent Botanical Garden, it caught me up at and in the crypt of the Dome.
the first snow. and the magic of a picturesque Austrian city, on the last November day.
