robert
1 following
33 followers
Joined November 2022
Joined November 2022
10 hours ago
Step by step I rise higher, the air is cool and still. I'm looking for an old saw.
Suddenly something appears among the trees. It has an artificial, human shape - a large piece of rusty iron. I stop and recognise a part of each, largely covered in leaves. I'm going in the right direction. The forest remembers more than maps.
A little further on lie other fragments: a twisted frame, the remains of a pulley. Everything is scattered, as if the saw had broken itself apart and left a trail. Good thing the trees don't have leaves. I can... show more Step by step I rise higher, the air is cool and still. I'm looking for an old saw.
Suddenly something appears among the trees. It has an artificial, human shape - a large piece of rusty iron. I stop and recognise a part of each, largely covered in leaves. I'm going in the right direction. The forest remembers more than maps.
A little further on lie other fragments: a twisted frame, the remains of a pulley. Everything is scattered, as if the saw had broken itself apart and left a trail. Good thing the trees don't have leaves. I can see further through the bare branches than would be possible in summer.
And then it appears. A sawdust silo - tall, red and rusty. The pipes are crumbling and falling, but the silo is still standing. Behind it, roofless halls, with windows filled with strange luffers that catch the cold light.
I'll stop. I've found it. Not as it was, but as it remains.
Suddenly something appears among the trees. It has an artificial, human shape - a large piece of rusty iron. I stop and recognise a part of each, largely covered in leaves. I'm going in the right direction. The forest remembers more than maps.
A little further on lie other fragments: a twisted frame, the remains of a pulley. Everything is scattered, as if the saw had broken itself apart and left a trail. Good thing the trees don't have leaves. I can... show more Step by step I rise higher, the air is cool and still. I'm looking for an old saw.
Suddenly something appears among the trees. It has an artificial, human shape - a large piece of rusty iron. I stop and recognise a part of each, largely covered in leaves. I'm going in the right direction. The forest remembers more than maps.
A little further on lie other fragments: a twisted frame, the remains of a pulley. Everything is scattered, as if the saw had broken itself apart and left a trail. Good thing the trees don't have leaves. I can see further through the bare branches than would be possible in summer.
And then it appears. A sawdust silo - tall, red and rusty. The pipes are crumbling and falling, but the silo is still standing. Behind it, roofless halls, with windows filled with strange luffers that catch the cold light.
I'll stop. I've found it. Not as it was, but as it remains.
Krok za krokem se zvedám výš, vzduch je chladný a tichý. Hledám starou pilu.
Mezi stromy se najednou něco objeví. Má to umělé, lidské tvary – velký kus rezavého železa. Zastavím se a poznávám část katru, z velké části zapadanou listím. Jdu správným směrem. Les si pamatuje víc než mapy.
O kus dál leží další fragmenty: pokroucený rám, zbytky řemenice. Všechno je roztroušené, jako by se pila sama rozpadla a nechala po sobě stopu. Ještě že stromy nemají listí. Skrz holé větve vidím dál, než by bylo v létě možné.
A pak se to objeví. Silo na piliny – vysoké, červené i rezavé. Trubky se bortí a padají, ale silo pořád stojí. Za ním haly bez střech, s okny vyplněnými zvláštními luxfery, které chytají studené světlo.
Zastavím se. Našel jsem ji. Ne takovou, jaká byla, ale takovou, jaká zůstala.
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Comments
heki
7 hours ago
Vysoky standard jako vždy
augen
9 hours ago
DOBRÝ FOTKY..
robert
8 hours ago
Díky, Jsou tam ještě lepší zákoutí, ale musí se opatrně.
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