Photos and poetry
Here is a poem by Kristiina Ehin for you:
whatever I can imagine already is-
even love where hearts
call to each other like berry pickers in the forest-
and the huge momentum of the swing*
creaking and squeaking in the night
wheeling over the bar
the sweat of beauty and fear in my palms
the taste of blood in my mouth
and spirits from a second
a hundred and third
a coming and going world
who knock and walk and open and close doors
but still
do not dare to step into the pure circle of my sight
and old people who for some unexplainable reason are
younger than the young
and cildren and dogs
that simply no one has the heart to raise too well
the sweet strawberry glade I found in a dream
and hands
that unite
On the photos that come from early nineteen seventies my late aunt is doing her part in raising dogs and children. The dog belongs to her, the children to her brother (who is taking the photos). I loved those walks so very much. On the first picture we are walking on the frozen river, on the second photo you can see an obedience lesson among seaside sand dunes.
* you can see the kind of swing she talks about on this picture. I am curious about non-Estonians - did you also know immediately from the description what kind of swing Kristiina Ehin was writing about or did you need my link to know how a village swing looks like? BTW, for non-religious Estonians village swing was the place where the village people met and gossiped. Of course, swinging was also believed to be magical.
