Bedroom windowMarch 30th, 2007

I could see winter come and freeze the leafless trees and the grass on the ground and cover it with a thick lucent layer, each straw, thus if trying to save it across spring which seemed so far those days. They told me about animals in the forest that would find a way to survive through the bitter cold. I wrapped my shoulders in the chestnut-coloured blanket from my Dad’s and listened curiously until my eyelids sank down eventually. They would carry me to my wooden bed and sleep would cover me with phantastic dreams I would report about in the early morning hours. Those holidays were blessed with love and fun and action and boredom was never attendant. At daytime we would follow the animals’ prints through the trees that reached highly into the clear blue sky that never wore a single cloud, and the frozen ground was cracking under our feet and we were imagining a stranger, following us secretly and being responsible for the cracking that was not done by us kids but by pure nature itself.

When everyone was asleep I would raise my head until my eyes would see the abysmal outside that was creating new adventures for us by night, I was sure of that, but I could fall asleep not until I had stared in the deep for a while. Sleeping inside was only a part-time thing; I needed to be close to nature. By morning I was the first to be awake, and I would stare into the thinning haze and wonder for the pleasant surprises the new day would bring (…)

imagepostMarch 30th, 2007 imagetime21:52

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