The People in the Picture
A particularly hot afternoon in Copenhagen, I'm peeking through the window, two people cross the road below me. Plus a poem about the passing of time.
I love this picture I took from our Airbnb in Copenhagen back in May. It’s a warm afternoon at the height of Spring and the windows need to be kept half open or we will roast, it’s particularly hot in Copenhagen that week. The slightest breeze comes in through one set of windows then out from the next, in a zig zag motion. I stand right next to them so I can admire the sky, not one single cloud. There’s a stillness and a calmness I can still feel today, broken every couple of minutes by a stream of pedestrians crossing the road right below me. Some on foot, some on bikes, in groups or by themselves. Watching people from above feels wrong but it also feels incredibly special just because they can’t see me. It’s like I’m not there.
I see this couple cross the road in four ample steps and I love the light, the small but noticeable contrast between the vast greyness of the concrete road and the mysterious woman’s peppery red hair that is so neatly rolled into a bun. It’s the most beautiful shade of copper red I’ve ever seen. I love that they are walking while embracing, their steps need to be perfectly synced to each other’s or it’s an impossible task. You can see two people walking but only one shadow. And that’s when I knew I witnessed something special.
Now think about all the little things you might be the only one to notice and how privileged you are that somehow they were meant to be just for your enjoyment.
I said the height of Spring but the trees are still in bud, I hate to wish things were different than they are because, even though I’m not religious, I do believe in fate.
I’m still entranced by this woman I’ll never meet. She seems put together and confident, not in an arrogant way but in a “this is what an adult looks like” way. Does she like to cook? Does she dog-ear the pages of the books she likes to read? I want to know and I don’t know why. I make her up in my mind like I put together an outfit, meticulously and without rhyme or reason.
I discover something new about myself. I’m in the constant pursuit of fleetingness. I can’t help it, it gives my life meaning. The more fleeting moments I collect the richer I become. I save them all wrapped up nice and tight until it’s their time to shine. I quickly compare this feeling to nostalgia because it feels similar, almost too similar.
In four more steps, they’re out of my view and I think about how much I’d love to show them this picture. Would they like it or find it weird? It has a certain sentimental value for me, I can feel their love for one another. Whoever they are and wherever they were going, they made someone’s day and don’t even know it.
25.5.23
It happens slowly, and you notice it here and there. The passing of time. When you want to address it, it might be somewhat late. But what if I just got started? Everything could have been different, and it could have been the same. You will never know and that's ok, that's what makes it interesting. Knowing that not matter what you did or didn't do, it all falls into place, or at least that's what they tell us.
Tell me about the little things you notice in the comments; if you feel like it.
Further Watching
Sonya Alkushina’s Cinematic Videos on Instagram. This one in particular.