Enigmatic yoga in Crofton Park


There’s something a little unnerving about this picture, as though you were meant to yogically squeeze yourself through the gate (or fly over it).

It also reminds me of  Hölderlin for some reason:

Where, oh where, when it is winter
Will I find the flowers and where
The sunshine and shadow of earth?
The walls stand
Speechless and cold, in the wind
The weather-vanes clatter.



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