It was an ordinary summer, just like the current one ...
... but since is relatively long gone, leaving behind just a bunch of photographs and fragmented memories in my mind, now it looks different ... less vivid, less alive ... like an empty shell on some distant beach, or piece of driftwood that could be what remains of the tree you saw somewhere, some decades ago.
The colors disappeared through time, so I edited the photographs to match the memory.
Although I surely spent my days in different places, including the house in which I live, the vision of that summer is stuck outdoors ...
... on one particular stretch of coastline ...
... about 3 kilometers from the village called Liznjan, and about 7 kilometers from Medulin - my hometown.
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I remember moments too bright to be real, fragments of landscape dipped in the midday sun that hurts the eyes ...
... quiet meadows under the slightly overcast sky ...
... and some rare moments of magic ...
... early in the morning ...
... with dew covering the dried out grass ...
... empty cobwebs ...
... and shed skins.
I remember some evenings too ...
... pill bugs coming out of their hiding places under the stones and bark and climbing along the thorny plants ...
... the moon climbing across the sky and shining above the tall grass ...
... while the sun is going down.
Some memories are more like fragments of dreams, not only colorless but also detached from reality in more substantial ways ...
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... it's difficult to establish the exact place or time of the day.
I remember the trees being flowerless ...
... except for one apple tree with branches hanging above the shallow bay, with one flower on it.
Like all my memories ...
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... this one is also infested with insects ...
... and other small arthropods ...
... there are bees ...
... beetles ...
... butterflies ...
... long-legged crickets ...
... various bugs ...
... and minuscule flies.
I remember a friend walking along the dusty road ...
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... and a line of hay bales basking in the sun.
Grains of wild grasses are exploding like fireworks in my scull ...
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... some contorted, snake - like plants are trying to reach the sky ...
... and a star fell on the palm of my friend's hand.
... while this caterpillar somehow ended on the palm of my hand.
And now ...
... with only a few more photographs left ...
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... it's time to end this short walk down the long memory lane ... a coastal stretch of that memory lane ...
... as always in these posts on HIVE ...
... these old photographs are my work ...
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... THE END.
