You lie on the grass in the Arb not far from the slope where you were skiing in winter. You want to know whether you will become more grounded to concrete things if you press your back upon earth and block your upward gaze with a cap. The bees are busy between clovers, and they give their full attention to clovers. However, through a tiny hole on the cap, you see pine branches grow into clouds in the sky, constantly changing and swiftly moving. You close your eyes. Then some birds begin to chirp high up on tree tops. You feel desperate: how come things in the air are always more appealing?

 

 

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