Wednesday, May 18, 2005

(From Warsaw): best ever

When I hear that phrase said over a lunch treat, I want to protest. Because really, one cannot hope to compare Polish pastry to French pastry. Or can one?
chocolate eclairs and fruit tarts Posted by Hello

(From Warsaw): conversations under gray clouds

Why the gray skies? It is the last day of gray skies in Poland, they tell me. It will all clear. Summer-like weather starts tomorrow, they say.

But when we walked through Lazienki Park, it was gray. It was gray even among the lilacs. Peacocks paced the park, moving slowly among gray statues, resting occasionally, waiting for a warmer moment.

But the moods were gray.

And it was gray on the streets, and in the buses we rode to and from the Old Town. And on the Square it rained.

Inside the souvenir store, Madeline, Jeremy and I shake off the wetness. The saleslady is looking at us as we stand there dripping, me shivering, Madeline clutching an umbrella. And she scolds: “how can you ladies let that poor man suffer so? Why doesn’t he have a sweater or a wrap on? He’ll catch a cold! Can’t you find him something to keep him warm?”
a sundial without the sun, a peacock passing through Posted by Hello
resting  Posted by Hello
looking for good things Posted by Hello
On the Square, fighting the clouds Posted by Hello

(From Warsaw): what stands out

…on the train to Warsaw: farmsteads, small strips of land, meadows. (When was the last time that I had seen a meadow in the States?)

A hand plough pulled by a horse, an orchard, a forest. Dirt roads with farm wagon tracks. No cars. Chickens let loose in a field, willows bending down, wooden fences made of brittle gray boards, unpainted.

Is this my home? Is this no longer my home?

Returning with sentimental thoughts but also returning with an understanding that because I left so long ago, I think it is no longer possible for me to live here (even as it is not possible for me to feel that home is elsewhere).

Wild lilacs blooming against the side of the tracks, a small train station – Dziadowki – passed slowly. No one there anyway, no one in sight anywhere, in fact.
looking out Posted by Hello
wooden fences, fruit trees Posted by Hello
green fields Posted by Hello