The courtyard of old times
Granmas and granpas were used to gather in the coutyard in the summer nights drinking granita (it’s called crushed-ice drink..in english…wow) beer and wine. Many of them still continued to work, while chatting…shelling grain, peas, beans…
The courtyard was the big place of gathering for all the people living in a farm and my granny often talks me about how cool it was to spend time there.
Yesterday night we drove for some miles from our village to another place in the middle of the green countryside…in very tiny roads surrounded by nothing but corn…
We arrived in this farm and the main entrance was just in front of the courtyard. Very loud music and people of every age dancing and singing…people sit down drinking, eating, talking, beating the time with their feet…funny.
It reminded me about old times when people gathered in the yard to celebrate the end of the harvesting season and it was so great to discover again that particular endroit of the farm, almost forgotten..and not too “modern” or “cool” for the “people of today.” generation. I was glad to spend time in the old courtyard with people of my generation.
While driving back the moon was very orange and well round shaped. I saw the light…arriving in my courtyard…and the moon was gone.
The wind don’t blow in my courtyard
The wind don’t blow thru my window
The wind don’t blow in my courtyard
Let’s all have a drink…
The courtyard was the big place of gathering for all the people living in a farm and my granny often talks me about how cool it was to spend time there.
Yesterday night we drove for some miles from our village to another place in the middle of the green countryside…in very tiny roads surrounded by nothing but corn…
We arrived in this farm and the main entrance was just in front of the courtyard. Very loud music and people of every age dancing and singing…people sit down drinking, eating, talking, beating the time with their feet…funny.
It reminded me about old times when people gathered in the yard to celebrate the end of the harvesting season and it was so great to discover again that particular endroit of the farm, almost forgotten..and not too “modern” or “cool” for the “people of today.” generation. I was glad to spend time in the old courtyard with people of my generation.
While driving back the moon was very orange and well round shaped. I saw the light…arriving in my courtyard…and the moon was gone.
The wind don’t blow in my courtyard
The wind don’t blow thru my window
The wind don’t blow in my courtyard
Let’s all have a drink…