Wanderlusting in your Imagination

A friend of mine forwarded beautiful pictures of earthly places I wish I was born in: a pink umbrella left on a lovely wooden bridge, complemented by pink cherry trees in the background; a solitary citrus green tree in the middle of a lavender field; golden autumn leaves lining up a forgotten road; winter glazing the trees and the fields white; a glacier glowing in the darkness of the Arctic region; a row of windmills standing still beneath a late afternoon sky; a shaft of sun piercing through a canyon gulch; a field of yellow flowers on the foot of a snow-capped mountain range. My eyes remained on those pictures for half an hour. I look outside our office, and see glass monoliths drenched in afternoon thunderstorm, the lightning slicing through the velvet darkness of heavy clouds. We only pass this way once indeed.