I sometimes go riding in fridays with special bus that transports local village oldsters to parish centre (Kosch kirschpiel) to buy medicine and commodities. The bus travels between fields of snow and harvested forests, here and there appears chimneys of an old houses. Most of them are with no signs of life - no busts of smoke coming from them.
Most of the oldsters have lived here all of their lives - worked in fields and forest they see in the bus window. Where are their children? Long ago gone to towns, settled down far away from vastness of middle-estonia. Theres no perspective to live in the middle of nowhere, to be face to face with harsh winters and yourself. Oldsters are quietly chatting with their seatmates, commenting every house and subject they see in bus window: "Yes, there we played in 1945", "Kõue Peoples House? My son went there one time, I have not been there."
The oldsters are looking at relatively young man with understandable incredulity. Why are you here? Why not in town? This place is for people who don´t smile and don´t think big anymore. We are born form crude nature and we die here. Nothing can take or change our memories or lives.
Estonian Republic turns 93 years today.
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Karm aga tõsi.
24 veeb. - 24 kraadi C.
Looduses valitsevad hetkel samad värvid mis meie lipul. Sinine om taevas, raagus mustad puud ja piimvalge lumi. ILUS!
Varsti see muutub, läheb soojaks ja roheliseks. LAHE!
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