This is the story about a kettle full of wild strawberries and the forest near to my grandparent's house. I still remember the perfume of ripe wild strawberries fluttering in the air and the light green kettle hung on my grandpa's belt. We often went for a walk in the forest, we only needed to cross the road and the big and shadowy forest embraced us in all its beauty. And we walked and walked until the stream, we crossed the stream and continued till the large meadow in the heart of the forest. The grass was so green and the flowers so white and yellow. The air was hot and mild wind was moving rhythmically big oak's leafs . Beneath these big trees and all around in the meadow small, bright, red fruits were waiting for us...Ohhh what a joy, ohhh what a splendor, I will never forget these feelings. I craved all these tiny fruit and suddenly I found myself with the mouth full of sweet strawberry flavour! I couldn't go back home walking, I was too tired and too sated. My grandpa used to carry me on his strong and scrawny shoulders and I was almost touching first tree branches with my head. Grandma was waiting for us on on the doorstep and lukewarm smell of fresh baked bread was tempting me. The bread was ready to spread on it some fresh strawberry mash.
I stil adore strawberries and the sensations of lights and shadows I've met in that forest. Forest is the place I'm searching for wherever I am.
I stil adore strawberries and the sensations of lights and shadows I've met in that forest. Forest is the place I'm searching for wherever I am.