She is walking towards me, down the hill, as I am leaving the baroque city of Steyr. She looks at me, or does she look through me, greets me smilingly and suddenly my world is aflame. The way she looks; a happy and content look. Totally open to the world, vulnarable yet with a strenght of ages. Suddenly I feel a little door to my soul opening up, as if I am there with her. An angel, that’s how she feels. I watch her back, she doesn’t turn round, maybe she didn’t even see me, but the image and the feeling stay with me all day. How lucky are you when someone looks you in the eye like that. How lucky are you if that moment lingers, comes back, stays?
It rains for the larger part of the day. Just as I am walking into the mountains. The pré Alps, the Austrians correct me. To me they are mountains. It is hard work and at times, between the mud and slipping, I wonder had I not better stayed down there. But then, every now and then, there is this moment where you can see where you are. Like a veil being lifted and suddenly you remember what all the hard work was for, becoming aware of your context.
That is what that woman did to me, there in the morning. The way she looked at me lifted a veil, made me become aware of the larger world around me. She reminds of who I am. By looking at me, looking into me. Eyes are the mirrors of the soul.