Cesky Raj

tuesday's snow was an adolescent snow pimpled by the unfrozen soil, grass poking through like unfamiliar stubble

this countryside is narrow roads winding through open fields and past villages of neatly clustered colored houses centered around a tall yellow bell tower with a stern black clockface

the bus fairly barrels down the straight stretches of black pavement

a girl behind me said, 'we've had so many beautiful moments, but they're just so fleeting. it's really kind of sad. I guess pictures capture something, but it's not enough.'

i felt a sweet-sick lurch of excitement in my gut as I know i hold the answer to this problem - being able to write, to capture those moments in a way nothing else can suffice.