A Life in Film

[akirlu]

There's this fluff blowing through Redmond. It comes unpredictably, when the wind is right. Suddenly the air will be full of constellations, tendrils, swirling galaxies of fluff, touching everything, drifting everywhere -- little spangles of it blow in through your open car window, and out again. It seems vaguely metaphorical, even surreal. There's some sort of metaphysical significance to it, but I can't suss what. I feel as if I'm living inside Fellini's Amarcord. Mostly I just like the way the little motes catch the sunlight when I'm walking the dog, though.