[Poetry] may make us from time to time a little aware of the deeper unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Driving back to Austria after a short stay in our family town. The longer the distance the coarser our sight. No time for taking many pictures. Maybe a better chance next time. Aufwiedersehen.