Morning wake-up and laziness in bed. A trip to the market for some list demanded shopping. I have the occasion to watch babies discovering the world. Some uncertain steps helped by mum, wide open eyes and finger pointing are the first ways they get in contact with this world. Spring has come and they begin to discover that this world means more than four walls. I like to watch them and notice what surprises them. I imagine this would be the first reactions of some aliens coming to earth. They are aliens too. Fresh beings ready to be shaped by everything around. It's interesting to see how some random events and people can put an imprint on them. Tabula rasa becomes a map of people met and things seen.
It was an enjoyable morning. The first one when we really felt that spring has stepped in. Walking towards the market, we met a lot of acquaintances. There was the familiar discussion about illnesses, doctors and drugs - a must when I go out with my mother who knows half of the town and always has a piece of advice for you. I enjoyed listening, watching the market crowd go by and noticing the little sparrows spies, hidden under a roof, ready any moment to jump and assault a crumb.
I met a former colleague. And I was surprised that there are still people that don't know that I'm back. " I thought that you were still over the ocean!" I told him I am back for good and responded to his surprised face with a -"I will tell you all about it next time". I thought that chapter in my life was over and I am a bit annoyed to go a step back and explain myself. I am here and I want to enjoy my life now.
A kiosk gathers people to sign for a good cause- stopping some dangerous mining. I don't like my attitude - of blunt rejection, but I can't stop the feeling that is useless. I feel that people's wish has been ignored too may times and when weighed between some money and it, the money wins no matter how many signatures were gathered. A man, in his sixties, reminds people of an upcoming strike. My mother and another lady seem very determined to remember the date. It's funny for me. I always imagined that strikes are stirred up by young people. The ones who feel the need of action and yelling. Seeing old people speaking of a strike like an appointment, makes me think strikes have become a national sport. I imagine old people would schedule their death like that if they could.
The market - is great. A continuous show without curtains. You can't get bored there. There is always something happening. It's enough to open your eyes. I like the peasant lady with the common grey course will sweater. It makes me imagine her knitting it next to the stove the last winter. It is really spring if the gave up her lamb skin coat.
We are looking for horseradish. An uncle brought some dear meat and we need it for the afternoon roast. The first price is unacceptable so we go around the market looking for a cheaper bundle. But none of them looks better than the first one seen and have the same price. So I have to go and buy from the first lady, my mum doesn't want to go there again after she mocked her price.
Next is the chive. I like the task distribution made by my mother. She will buy three kilos, that I will have to carry, her sister and brother other four. Everybody has to buy if they want onions in the autumn from my grandfather!
Back towards home. I look at the the spoiled behaviour of a stray dog called between two men selling in the market. They have warmth in their voices and it shows its love in its mellow feline-like steps and paw over the eye meant to amuse them. It always amazes me how easy they forget harsh words and are willing to sell their souls at the first kind word. They are not people indeed.
I see a muzzled German dog and we make eye contact. I want to pet its fur but I can't reach it because it is surrounded by three talking cops.
On our way, I look around and I see a lot of youngsters, teenagers. The gorgeous sun has allured everybody outside and they bring with them life and movement.
An afternoon walk in the park made me feel in an surreal world. The fresh shy sun through the barren tree branches on the earth and snow patches makes us feel special. It's like a sunset in the middle of the day. Everybody is out. I see them in jackets, although it isn't that warm yet. But they seem so free. They can shed the burden of their thick winter coats. And they had to wear a lot for a a long time this winter. It was a real winter, this year, like in our grandfathers' stories.
I see some boys throwing some snowballs, or something between snow and water. They feel already the nostalgia of winter. They realize that this is the last time they will play with snow till next winter. And that is a long time away, especially for them.
Relaxing on a bench I look at the water bubbles running under the thin layer of ice next to our feet. A leaf, from last autumn, no doubt, stopped to rest on its brim. I wonder how was its entire trip until it got there. Dizzy bees go around and some in love birds began their chant.
The lion began roaring. At its usual time. But its vowels seem lower this time, may be it too feels the laziness and pleasure of this spring afternoon. It's a perfect day. What can you wish more...Life is worth living for its small things.
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