[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.
T.S.Eliot
Saturday, May 16, 2020
A top view
Not the best of views, I know. The sun is already down and the sky is somehow dull. Still, I wanted to keep a trace of my MTB passage on top of the Plabutsch hill, after a long time.
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