The crowns of trees arch down and create the shrine of Dionysus. I walk below, carrying a ladybug with me.
On the left is a river with swans.
The space open to pastures, I observe some cows. Some friendly folk greet me.
On the left is a river with a lock.
I enter a village, the houses are in the shadow of trees. A local beggar asks me for a change.
On the left is a river with a bridge.
I travel on a road, dust and smog of cars stick to my sweat. Some good man honks me to get the hell out of his way.
On the left is a sound-block barrier.
The buildings of the city dwarf the trees, Dionysus has no reign here. The pace is fast, but speed is slow, as thousands stare at the blocked road.
On the left are a hotel, shop, fast food and church.
I arrived in my room, sheltered from nature and people. Margins of free space reach their negative value.
I wonder what is left for me to do.
Have a good week all. Do something great.