Luftmensch photography

The Inn river had breached its banks the day I reached Innsbruck. Only light rain pattered on the windshield, but the snow on the Alps had started to melt in the first warmth of summer. There was an urgent need to cut short the visit and return to where I was staying in Tyrol. But as I hurried through the streets, I spotted the wall. A narrow street and on the side the wall. Peeping over them was a spray of roses. A wind ruffled them. The moment had passed, and I walked on.