I arrived back in Bonn in shirt sleeves and panting from the weight of missed hours and the burden of bad packing. 6 weeks of travel brought me full circle around the world and a halfway again- only to be yanked back towards the dullness of a deciduous forest in winter and a swollen, menacing river. The waterfront of the Rhine was a series of lampposts jutting out of the murky brown, marking the garrisoned lines that the river had marched effortlessly past. The cradle built to carry the river to the sea was broken. The violence of this act was itself submerged beneath the gentle lapping of the river’s knife-edge on sodden grass and the backs of park benches. I wanted the river to win more ground just to see how the built landscape of the city would react. But just a silent as it came; the flood receded back into its bed like a shadow shirking the light of the sun.
No comments:
Post a Comment