The mountains are so far below that their details look old, like a picture faded with time, and from directly over head, their points could just as easily be concave as convex. The sun's rays seem to shine from below this lofty bird's eye view, creeping outward from the south west and reaching a shorter distance than expected from such a powerful energy source. The forests are darker where the sun doesn't reach, and the ground becomes almost barren in places. The height has distorted certain details and revealed others.
Accumulated dust along the frame and in its cracks and crevices contrasts with the delicate texture and bright light captured in the painting. Even just this corner, where no one thing can be made out, a whole scene plays out on the surface. The light springs from a dull shadow, and stretches horizontally to the right, illuminating what is above in upwards shooting rays. In the shadow beneath the light, a splintered part of the wooden frame takes on the appearance of a tree, desperately seeking light and forcing its limbs towards the nearest source, not quite making contact yet.
The side of the concrete pathway is crumbled, suffering yet another rainy season pushed up against the rising water. The current splashes and catches the morning light, glinting in a dreadful way. The heavy water shines beautifully, but steals greedily and takes over forcefully. There won't be any peaceful river side strolls for a while, and soon those two branches drifting along unwillingly in the rushing water will turn to many. The sidewalk won't be dry for long.
