As I cross the bridge over the ‘Stadtgraben’ (the city moat) I stop to look down into the water. There are small fish, a hundred hovering dashes, and there are water lilies—the water is that still. I am intrigued by the submerged world of these plants. There are leaves reaching up for the air, to the light—young, smooth and round but there are others, submerged, large, wrinkled like skin after a long bath. They seem mute, restrained by stems too short to lift them to the air. But perhaps this is the way they should be? Breathing below the water?
Monet painted water lilies tirelessly but I haven’t spotted these underwater leaves in his paintings. There is always a focus on the mood and, of course, flowers.
