Golden times…

“As he walked along the dark streets with clear skies under the stars these evenings, many of the younger memories became more tender and more golden than before. The little ponderings as a young boy, walking around and thinking, and wondering about the world, trying to sort out the thoughts and impression with the young and still party innocent mind of a little boy, walking home from school, sitting in a classroom and watching the trees outside the window, walking around in the garden, or having the head deep buried in a book, while smiling and loving the feeling of understanding something new, and something more.”

Soft rain..

“On the rainy days these little points might appear more often, with the gray skies and the rain softly hammering on the windows, with the streets filled with a blanket of vibrating and pulsating little raindrops, smashing into the asphalt and dissolving into a thin layer of water.”