How should we measure a year?
By months, hours or memories held dear.
By what could have been and what became
Or maybe that shouldn’t be the aim.
A year is, a year was
With all its beauty and its flaws
Ours, your and mine
So, lets not categorize it, nor define.
The cities of the world are concentric, isomorphic, synchronic. Only one exists and you are always in the same one. It’s the effect of their permanent revolution, their intense circulation, is their instantaneous magnetism. –Jean Baudrillard
It's life and life only
Birds on the Blog
Great Crested Grebe. Caught at a rare moment sitting on its nest in some cold part of NW India. Unlike the Grebe outside my window that vanishes in a flash as it dives in search of fish.