"My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
Going far ahead of the road I have begun
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
It has inner light, even from a distance -
and charges us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave...
but what we feel is the wind in our faces. "
A Walk by, Rainer Maria Rilke
Smoke from a fire on a distant ridge top
