Gone with the Storm Wind
“The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore.”
-Vincent Van Gogh
Now I could really feel the wind.
Only a little while ago I was surrounded by others, standing in a proud, solid formation. Come what may.
The sky turned dark. The grey clouds were looming so low that you could almost touch them. The birds fell silent and sought shelter in the branches. Everywhere was silent. Like the whole world had stopped to wait.
Then came the first rumble of thunder that resonated in the insides. The second one, and the third.
A bank of clouds swarmed overhead and took the whole landscape in its tight grasp. Wrenched us, fell down a whole row. Raged and rampaged, revealed the fingers that were sunk in the soil – that had reached into many directions, trying to get a grasp on the surfaces of rocks and ground formations, penetrating into dense soil, craving to get a hold of something.
Fingers that hold astonishing determination in each grain. Such resilience that cannot be imitated. You need to experience it yourself.
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