new light turns the edge of the sky blue as the grass is a black frosty crunch under foot, hands wrapped in gloves and tucked away, warm for the minute, but anticipating the sting of the cold as they turn rings and push buttons. aware another moment approaches, like many that have come before and countless that will follow, some arrive unaided, while others require an understanding and are only revealed by those who seek to create them. existing briefly then fading, the only evidence burned into a strip of film or digitised into so many bits and bites. |