Last Snow in April

From my "Four Seasons” mini series, winter was missing. When I started this piece, I wanted to take it in that direction. Then nature, at that very moment, pushed back and winter refused to leave. That’s when I understood this was a standalone work. A moment of passage. A crossroad between seasons.

A trace of white, forgotten by the roadside.
The trees have blossomed, but still remember winter.
Only his footsteps, left in uncertain time, know it was cold.
Spring doesn’t come as an answer. It comes as a question.
A silence beginning to flow.