WINGS

I had some business to the room no-one-ever-goes-to, also known as the "study", the room where the laundry dries or the rom that will be Dag's before he turns 18 and moves out.

I saw something shimmer in the window and noticed a set of fallen wings in between the windows. They and once belonged to some insect, whose skeleton-like dead shell I presume was now resting somewhere under the window isolation, or perhaps had just been burnt away by the sun.

I actually think it's the first time I have properly studied a pair of bug-wings so up and close (even though me and bugs are kind of cool with each other -but add two legs more and we have a different story- I still don't tend to go too near them,  and they seldom keep still in order to be properly looked at too), although trough a glass. I have no idea if they are "just" the wings of a late fly, or something else, but there they lie. And they are so beautiful, the shine, the shades, the way they are constructed.

Life is full om amazing things, big and small and sometimes very tiny.