Friday, February 4, 2011


...The wonderful world of the forest opened the very same moment I stepped into it. Dark and tall. And silent. I could swear I smelled incense. All these trees and leaves, moss and dry branches, all of them recognized me; I was their friend once and they asked me where I had been all this time. I didn’t really have an answer, but I asked some questions of my own: mostly about the light and the shadows, the shapes and the rhythms of the woods.

Our conversation was interrupted once in a while by sweaty, middle aged joggers or elderly dog walkers, by romantic couples, trying to hold hands and hike at the same time. My forest friends would quickly disappear, and once the intruders left, they would appear once again and continue to revoke our memories.

Unfortunately, I cannot describe how it happened when I met her for the first time. Most likely as surprised as I was, she quickly disappeared behind the closest bunch of leaves. After a while, shyly, she peeked out from behind a leaf and – as soon as she caught my gaze, vanished. Of course I completely forgot about the camera in my hands. It was such a short glimpse of time; she didn’t stay long enough for any type of study, so I can say nothing about her size or her wings (I do remember those), her face or her body. I don’t even remember if she flew or walked away… but the event engraved itself into my mind.