flâneur

peaks and troughs - by Nix 🕊 - starting from nix

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no course, no playbook, no map

Altai-Himalaya by Roerich I came back from Tahoe, shoulder knots loose and untethered from a weekend in the mountains. Summer is an ode to clear running water, yellow moss, upturned saplings, the heaviness of post-rain air. We ate steaks at midnight. When the sun sunk, it lit up the edges of the sky in rivulets of pink and gold. Certain feelings re-occur at different points in your life. What I felt, that pink evening, when have I felt like that before? Leaving London: its glossy cobblestones at Christmas. I cried because I felt so happy. So lucky. But also because I felt the path…

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