Monday, January 19, 2009
 | Category: Dreams and the Supernatural Shumen The Old town. Springtime. The rain is singing, the mischievous raindrops are sliding and jumping downwards, swinging and tinkling over every newly grown leaf, each of which in a deep green color, silky and shiny. The youth of the reincarnated Nature fills the air with freshness and energy. So many new hopes and optimistic thoughts, lots of springiness, restless flow of brand new scents, colors, forms... Cleanness, fully awoken warmth, coming from the Sun after its poor rays during the long Winter... Thoughts, memories of grey and cold, pushed away with a smile, because it is the season of the birth! Spring! While thinking of all that, noticing that eventually the rain has stopped and the bird's choir is singing the most eloquent love song devoted to the Life... The smell of the wet stone is something, which fills my lungs with rushing redolent oxygen; My heart with the will for living of a newborn; My head with sense of gratefulness, because I am able to feel and remember; My soul with the spirit of the Nature; My ME with the same "believer-in-dreams" consciousness... That very smell of rock&water makes my mind rocking and my eyes watering... |
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