It's winter and cold. Rain falls in abundance and the sun shows itself sparingly from behind the grey dark clouds. It's time to go from here. Where my consciousness leads me, away from this dark, this cold cave. I'm reluctant to descend slowly along the path I have to go. The wind blows around me and I appeal to my balance. Fog now envelops me, as I descend further. It is sometimes difficult to see something and on the touch I descend further along the widening path.
Down in the valley is the greenery, the flowers bloom in many beautiful colors, fresh and young. The trees shoot and the sun crawls again visible along the sky vault. Birds fly off and on with twigs, pieces of wire and what they can find to build their nests. In a short time, there will be new life. The springs clap in the water. Rivers flow swirling with water from the mountains through their beds. Here I want to be forever, relax and watch what happens around me and enjoy intensely. I open myself and receive.
The sun is high in the sky and burns its rays in the earth and its inhabitants. Everything that moves, moves slowly, everything that lives bends over what lives. Everything comes to exuberant blooms and there is laughter again about the fields. I'm lying in the grass under a tree. The shadow is once in a while a welcome relief. It's way too hot for adventures and efforts. Under the tree I think about what has been and what is to come. The changing stages of nature.
Slowly it gets fresher, a firm wind blows up again and large thick drops fall down. The trees discolorate, to red, to brown and to yellow, to finally lose their tip. Some, not all, birds fly south until the seasons change and the weather becomes spring. This is the period I entered here, this is my space of time, the phase in the calendar in which I am thrown back on myself and repent to the depths of my body and soul. Farewell is coming, it's time to go back up the mountain to my den.


