haar rising and a monochrome landscape, east winds 

and a blipday with a number that seems surreal and a message to point it out as you wander in batches and wordlessly find images which mutter of distance between eye and lens...

here spring forming in the first cherry blossoms, still casts a blanket of cold upon the darkening air but the wind has changed tone again, offering new scales for ear and eye...this year a scent of distances, fingers trecking through atlases, thinking, wondering, dreaming, or remembering...another scent, imagined snow drifting from the peaks beyond, glimpses on clear cold winds...