Wind blew gently dropping the flimsy pastels from the olives trees. The tiny white flakes carpeting the ground around the trees as people laid their footsteps on. Entering the park, at the foot of the viewing platform, I saw the yellowish sun, revealing behind the stark branches, shining as bright as the large round light bulks on the lamppost. More morning visitors arrived at the park before the rain might fall. I put on my earphones to scan the noises of the “Ban Nam Tuese group” and the clap hand buddy, which was getting louder each day. The conversation on the cooking program transcended me to another noise place, I suppose, when I lost my track on the depicting branches. While the hues, of the canopies on the treetops, were diminishing into a mess of monochrome greens as the daylight gradually intensified. So I left the picture as it was without adding darker tones to make further contrast.


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