Good morning. 🍂🍂🍂
15 December 2025
It’s another cold, cold morning. The sun is out, and the sky is clear—no clouds, like a summer day stripped of warmth. Yet the cold is undeniable. It presses through the window of my office, not as wind, but as a directional force—an invisible draft that moves without motion.
The heater struggled through the night, locked in a slow, losing battle. It held the line as best it could, waiting for the sun to rise and offer its quiet relief.
This morning’s earworm is ABBA—Waterloo in particular. I’ve been revisiting their songs these past few days, watching performances I never bothered with back then. Their music lived on the edge of my attention, peripheral but persistent. Listening now, I realize they were quite good.
One song—I can’t recall which—often played on the jukebox in the Canteen at Baumholder, Germany. We’d slip in during off-hours of training, and the tune was catchy enough to pair well with the beer, Apfelkorn, and Jäg
... show moreGood morning. 🍂🍂🍂
15 December 2025
It’s another cold, cold morning. The sun is out, and the sky is clear—no clouds, like a summer day stripped of warmth. Yet the cold is undeniable. It presses through the window of my office, not as wind, but as a directional force—an invisible draft that moves without motion.
The heater struggled through the night, locked in a slow, losing battle. It held the line as best it could, waiting for the sun to rise and offer its quiet relief.
This morning’s earworm is ABBA—Waterloo in particular. I’ve been revisiting their songs these past few days, watching performances I never bothered with back then. Their music lived on the edge of my attention, peripheral but persistent. Listening now, I realize they were quite good.
One song—I can’t recall which—often played on the jukebox in the Canteen at Baumholder, Germany. We’d slip in during off-hours of training, and the tune was catchy enough to pair well with the beer, Apfelkorn, and Jägermeister we consumed in excess whenever the chance arose.
It’s remarkable how music dredges up memories long buried. They sit filed away in the mind, waiting. All it takes is a stimulus—a melody, a lyric, a rhythm—and suddenly the past is retrieved, vivid and alive again.
“My my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender Oh yeah, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way The history book on the shelf Is always repeating itself
Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war Waterloo, promise to love you forever more Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you Waterloo, finally facing my Waterloo ...” — ABBA
“We do not remember days, we remember moments.” — Cesare Pavese
#photo #photography #photographer #photographylovers #nature #morning #foliage #cold #winter #ABBA #Waterloo
