Again, you travel to the curved curtain-wall office structure on the edge of the high-altitude valley town. Uphill all the way by plucky electric train. Bright sunshine, arctic air, clear views in every direction.
During a meeting in the morning someone said “blue-sky thinking”. Your head swivelled 90 degrees. Line of sight through the wide glass wall to monopoly houses in neat white rows on the other side of the narrow valley. To the ravaged ridgeline above. To the sun-hazed view of infinity above that.
One or two joggers,
a couple on a bench, emptiness and quiet:
the park at dusk
Don Cropper says... 