“I paddled as lonely as a cloud”

or “He paddled as solitary as a…”

Man as immersed into and part of nature or rather an intruder? A good question for anyone contemplating this picture I have just taken.

In any case, such a scenery on an ‘ordinary’ morning in spring really invites to write poetry and to capture the moment as the ‘extraordinary’.
Or is it an ‘extraordinary’ scenery that just needs to be described in ‘ordinary language’? I wonder what Wordsworth or Mary Shelley would answer to this question  – A.K


hid in the uniform clouds



This morning the mountain summits ‘were hid in the uniform clouds’ like Shelley describes in Frankenstein p111 and the sun set like fire over them tonight. This is the part of the Alps in France I grew up with and have always faced. -E.R.

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