Travel Trip to Autumn – with the Girl on the other Side

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“Hey Su! Long time no talk. How have you been?”

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“Hi, I’ve missed you! I had a beautiful day today, see: . . . ”
su is typing

Along the footpath

Once again it was about time to transform time into a beautiful lasting memory. Unlike Holden Caulfield, the catcher in the rye, my today’s mission as the catcher of the good, beautiful and true was to obtain the beauty of autumn before it was too late – before descent and constructionism put all obstacles in the way and monopolize autumn with their truth stealing scythes. I was competing against time. Thus, I only had to follow uniqueness and unrepeatability and everything would turn fine, I’d think to myself.

After taking solely one step outside of the house, I discovered my first catch in the name of the mission with my invisible collectors net that are my eyes and the attention of my mind. Some people would roll their eyes now and think to themselves: “Sure, I could also romanticize every of my single antsteps so far that I may notice the deceptions I’ve trapped myself into one day and how far I’ve departed myself from reality.” Okay. Maybe that’s what they think, but what does it still truly mean, if a butterfly accompanies me the whole footpath long? How can it be that this particular butterfly – when butterflies already have a very short life expectancy by nature and naturally don’t occur in autumn that often – is honouring me with its rare colourful beauty and exceptional splendour and presence on this autumn day at this exact time and place – on a day on which the uttermost personal intention was preset to capture the richness of colours, shapes and magnitudes in nature. How is it that I encounter a hiking butterfly during my own hiking trip, while butterflies are known for their migration over great distances? Isn’t all of this a hidden sign pointing at a higher truth, perhaps the embodyment of endurance, perseverance and the discovery of new horizons? How can it be that I as a natural explorer of the worlds beautiful tides am being constantly confronted with the alterations and elusiveness of nature, only to encounter a butterfly whose affirming metamorphosis is the purest form and symbolization for alteration and transformation in itself. Why are the pieces of the puzzle joining together so harmoniously, while other mysteries remain unknown? Another research question that arises. With all these impulses I was reinforced to continue the path I took for todays mission and I was excited to face further spontaneity.

Further on my path I flourished at the thought: For once I am granted to experience nature how it wants to be seen rather than how it is bluntly dealt with and generally waved aside. If one didn’t look up to the sky for a long time, one will rapidly lose themselves in its sight and find relevance in its elements. Clouds are sneaking waveringly and forging arts with their translucent shapes. Birds are conveying universal signals with their flights not only to mankind. Just like that, concrete life right before my eyes is turning into some kind of surreal ideal animation of a bigger and better timezone. I just can’t let my eyes wander off of all those things.
Perplexed and beguiled at the same time by this phenomenon I move on with the path of my trip.

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On the train

After getting into the train and taking a seat I quickly noticed all the dust particles on the trains window that where only being perceivable through highlights due to the vigorous rays of the sun. How can sole grains of dust sneak into my mind so vehemently? It must be their meaning that weighs heavily. Their sight, the constellation of endless grains, elicits something automating and natural inside of me. More precisely, their sight mentally catapults me into the tide of another world as if I’m gaining access to a veiled door that is so far-off from tracts we call home. Some may find it foolish, to prescribe trivial banalities this much thought and meaning but when it lies in your nature being consumed by curiosity nothing in the universe doesn’t deserve not being acknowledged. It’s as if I’m being permitted by the sun, the grain and the moment to conduct my experiments in the laboratory that is the fog.

The experiment starts and my thoughts flow – just like chemicals from one piece of glas to another: The dust particles constellation is so infinite and random that it was impossible to find structure inside of it, yet they were all the same and similiar to one another. And behind them on the cold but sun-kissed window surface flows life and therefore different imposed dimensions of the ups and downs. It is influencing them in a manner by radiating the particles’ abyss in various kinds of colours – because you are always exactly that which stands in relation to your ground, the world. Aren’t we also nothing other than random minimal matter of a dust grain on an enormous platform, while the universe is flowing all around? Everything is insignificant like million dots on a plate and yet we attribute constructed matters outside of the laws of nature more meaning than the true occurences right before our eyes.

The classic inside of the train will never get old, I smirked in thought. I again look outside of the window and see life passing by. This time I’m looking at beknown bodies that are stirr and frozen by nature but they seem to be moving by now. Who can claim that they’ve seen the magnificence of 100, 200, 300 accelerating trees within 3, 6, 9 athletic seconds? Practically everyone. And yet no one claims to have done so.

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At the café

After arriving at the cafe, that was filled in patterns of concrete, life acted out in front of me supernaturally and at the same time a proportion of the in the fog residing explorer inside of me departed. Within my by now bewakened childish joy that humans usually like to wear I’m delighted by the warmth und the spicy scent of a drink that they call pumpkin spice latte. I’m delighted by the bagginess of big pompous armchairs, iridescent lights in warm inviting tones, by dark dull deep woods. I’m comforted by the textiles upon my skin that gift me gentleness and softness right at this moment. I was unwittingly pleased by all of these impressions that were pressing themselves on my being with utmost force from all edges.

Then, only then, the other explorer of lower secondary rank who resides in the hearts of others allowed herself to venture forward the more concrete humanistic possibilities and to conduct further studies in secrecy – wholly without any fog.
The recognizable truth on this level is far more tangible and within reach than executing studies on the airs. She feels closer to truth more than anything else and therefore she vainly knows that this close available truth can’t be the uttermost veritable one. Yet she dives into this less sacred scenario since conditions are complied upon her chest and she was a sustainable one by nature.

She shifts her mind into the depths of the most concealed spot in her eye whereby she unlocks access to a more proficient vision. Her eye is nothing other than the consolidated form of a telescope of a humanly-detached and rather by the beauty of the stars mesmerized astronomer. Her vision reaches far more wide and profound now, almost channeling throughout the solid bodies of her objects of observation. The truths all lay here. Here the truths become clear.

While observing she’s solely ascribing and classifying in a heartbeat. A young man who asked for the young ladies hand. Both so youthfully exuding exotic joy, with the touch of a considerate gesture. A flower bouquet thats supposed to provide for a certain romantic atmosphere. In their sacred world sparks are currently sprouting into all directions and the biodiversity of over 150.000 ghosty butterflies are surrounding them in and outside of their auras. The eyes are entrapped in one anothers. If you would exhibit their eyes frames in a gallery, you could see the most beautiful portrait paintings of historical figures of their time – thats how they looked at each other. A positive assessment is the conclusion of this study. A positive progress of a possible inseperable connection. Wise lessons are what’s about to approach these individuals.

Then everything turns black. The view of the telescope obscured now. Something else, someone else demands the attention of the observer. A tender being is trying to sneak into the vast maze of my researches. Does she want to join in? Or does she only want to be the product of my art as a part of her own want, a self-affirming act in the thread of her self prescribed life. But her glance is too gentle to assert her pure desires. Her movements too soft. Her ability to withdraw from the vivid atmosphere too skilled.
Being involved with such a gentle character I could easily see her hopeful eyes that were searching for mine. I could translucently detect her attempt of a visual grasp with my peripheral view only, no deeper direct see-through vision needed. Does she perhaps recognize the deep demeanor of my eye by holding the same kind of vision hidden inside of herself? Could it be that she’s another explorer whose research perhaps is specialized upon explorers of the beauty – like myself? Shouldn’t explorers unite? The urgency of her questioning but hesitant glimpse suggested an enormous cause-effect relationship that could be generated. Lightness to grasp the answers out of the sky suddenly appears so near. But in reality I could never truthfully help her research reach a higher contribution by simply intervening all by myself, destroying the naturality of a self-inflicted chance. The mechanics would simply stop spinning flawlessly. I truly can’t use the devotion of my vision for all all-purposes, they have to take place intrinsically. Thus, I held back turning the vicious untruthful possibility into reality that would’ve only led to distortion. I rather let naturality run freely amongst todays set intention and gently and content enjoyed the presence of my yet distant, however still close explorer counterpart.

_{here’s a visual animation of the last paragraph}

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A very rare and exceptional autumn day that I’ve gotten to experience with total intensity because all sensory and imaginative contingencies deserve to be relished to their fullest extents. May it be in the form of adrenaline releasing bungee jumping or bungee jumping in the realm of your own thoughts. There is sincerely no difference.

But all of this is not what I’m going to reply. Instead I strike through everything I just wrote and spill out fragments that would rather soothe and comfort you and bring you harmony and joy than forcing you to ever subordinate and forge yourself into the nebulous complexities of my own thought palace. I write:

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“Hi, I’ve missed you!
It was lovely. I had a wonderful cozy day
at the cafe drinking and relaxing to a cup of pumpkin spice latte.
How are you? What’s been on your mind lately?”