Under the Sodium

Plato said: "it is to no purpose for a sober man to knock at the door of the muses,” and maybe he's right. For after two litres of Metropolis India Pale Ale (5.7% abv = 11.4 units), my journey home from W-wa Jeziorki station takes on mystical dimensions, immersed in the quantum reality of deserted suburban streets illuminated by sodium light that emit packets of orange photons.

Below: ul. Nawłocka looking towards ul. Trombity.

Below: ul. Nawłocka from the junction with ul. Karczunkowska

Below: ul. Trombity looking north towards the junction of ul. Dumki (in the distance)

Below: ul. Trombity looking south; fields to wheat to the left, beyond that, my window overlooking them. The digging up of the road for the new sewers have turned the road into a dusty, sandy track; the feel of 1930s America returns with a searing clarity.

Below: the deserted house on ul. Trombity. A letter from the local authorities suggests it may not be here very much longer...

Below: home, home again... outside, the night, the beating of insect wings.

Perhaps if I drank a bit more alcohol, I'd become more productive!

This time last year:
"Further progress? Hell yes!"

This time ten years ago:
The 1970s and the 2000s