I see an ant.
Walking on what may look like a bright pink desert.
Seeking a direction, almost like smelling its forward path it goes sideways, backwards, forward, in uneven waves.
Gradually it reaches the end of the pink table and disappears.
Then after a while the environment changes.
With a breeze that touches my right cheek comes the the rain. Slowly but constant.
I see men by the river.
I do not see them washing their car by running it straight through the river, as they apparently do.
I would love to see that.
What I do see is a white butterfly. Moving in seeking patterns similar to the ant. A dog is passing, stopping and gazing out at the view. It smells the air and then quickly hunts the sound of somebody hitting a bucket.
Now the sun is back.
I must have been gone for a while. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.
When I look up I see green hills with a shape like this (arm moving)
Out in the field everything is open.
The ground is warm. The grass is about 15 cm high.
When I look down into the field I discover its richness. Insects of various kind and sizes, the names of which I don’t know.
Rocks of various kinds, none that look the same.
An ocean of ants crawling on a muddy hill, a little yet gigantic hill.
Green grass of various sorts.
I really shouldn’t be placing my feet on this ground.
Now I need the toilet.
I am back.
Dear field of grass.
How I respect you. How I cherish you. But still I must admit, I don’t know you anymore.
You have secrets that to me becomes fantasies. Fantasies that scare me.
I hear a “hussing” sound.
I move away and then I think: A snake? My thought was slower than my reaction.
And my writing takes more than a lifetime.
I see a computer.
I see my self standing in an open field of grass with a computer. I see myself writing about what I see.
I hear the sound of a bee traveling so I turn around. Now I see the sun behind the clouds.
I press save.
I worship this present moment and do not want it to go away.
What do I see?
I see Georgia.
Desert mountains close by. Snow on top of the distance mountains.
Layers and of mountains in all directions.
No, not everywhere.
Somewhere I only see treetops melting with white clouds.
The clouds have cotton shapes and I don’t know what’s behind.
The wind is both occasionally and constant.
It has no nationality.
I wonder where it has been, where it started, where it will end.
I see a butterfly. A beautiful cliche.
It could cross boarders if it wanted to. So could I. Not everyone can do that.
I hear a lot I do not see.
Some ducks. Birds pretty much in every direction. An occational car. Some occational dogs.
Am I on the internet?
I see a bed with a white sheet blowing in the wind.
An old rusty bed with metal decorations. Old. Nice. It is a single bed. I walk towards the bed.
I see an old chewing gum.
I see a paper cup.
I see somebody walking up in the desert mountains.
I think it is some cows.
I lay down. Will I fall? No, it’s ok.
Now I have sun on my face.
“Hello, you fool, I love you”, not a Rednex, but a Roxette song pops into my mind.
Now the time is 1027 in Norway,
1228 in Georgia.