When you close your eyes and stay very still you can hear them, softly turning the leaves with their gentle wind. In the city it is lost; out-shouted by the urban sound scape emphasizing, distracting; thoughts buzzing like flies in the back of your head. Now there is room for musings and sentiments; memories of extended families having picnics on buttercup covered lawns and variations of the same face on which one can read the elementary emotions, triggered by the friction between the ones you didn’t get to choose.

Het Hek