"We do not become writers, dancers, musicians, helpers, peacemakers. We came as such." C.P.Estés
Tuesday, July 17
3.47
3 hours and 47 minutes.
Concert number 12.
Once that's completed we can officially say we're over the half-way mark.
We're stopping at my aunties big yellow summer house for a day. I stayed there for summers on end when I was a child. It has now become one of those memories that's best described or felt through a smell, or I remember it as a smell. A smell of, pinetrees, and water, and pastries, and sand, more importantly sandy summery footwear, and creaky stairs, and somewhat dusty mattresses. And tea too, but fresh peppermint. What a smell, eh.
Those were really really good, old-fashioned, honest childhood summers.
There are still berries EVERYWHERE behind the house. Marvellous.
And I get to be there for a night. And swim morning-evening-morning before we drive back. And there's a nice little food place on the highstreet.
Two weeks ago the old neighbour heard I was staying for a bit and came along to say hi, with a big pot of fresh honey.
Maybe I should move, or at least spend more time away from Tallinn during the summer. Tallinn is brilliant and it's my city through and through, but during the summer it seems like everyone else is having more fun. Wrong choice of word maybe. Not fun necessarily, but, more at ease? And kind of allowing themselves to enjoy sunshine and notice the fact that everything is green, and lush. Maybe because there's so much more greenery when you leave Tallinn.
Well, whatever it is, there is this peace in the countryside.
Into the blue, and green, and pink, and golden,M.
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