It was January, the ground was frozen. You were walking a few steps ahead, I could see the little steam cloud of your breath through the lens. Then you turned round, looked at me, and your smile illuminated the scene: it said “I love you and this is a great day”. How beautiful you are, and how nostalgic I am for all those instants, then, now, and in all our futures. I adore you.
“Par instants, dans les yeux d’Albertine, dans la brusque inflammation de son teint, je sentais comme un éclair de chaleur passer furtivement dans des régions plus inaccessibles pour moi que le ciel et où évoluaient les souvenirs, à moi inconnus, d’Albertine.” Marcel Proust – La Prisonnière
[From time to time, in her eyes, in the sudden warming of her skin, I felt as a summer lightning, briefly crossing inaccessible regions, more remote for me than the sky, and where sailed her memories, to me unknown.]