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The Golden fairy 2: a stream (February)

The wind… it stuns. It is the contrast and the freedom. It can be actually anything – it stuns. I turn around the corner and the wind rushes inside and through me. It shrinks my heart till it is impossible to breathe and then it lets it free. Tranquility floods the body and I want to run, no quite – I want to fly, but how? to float.

Suddenly it feels it has been coming more often. Or is it that I have just been noticing it more often? What was before then?

It comes with transparency, not clarity, but transparency… The clarity is there too though: the clarity that I have to turn around the corner again.

Everything turned quiet. Even the crows are somewhere very far. There is only one straight of the wind stream. All sounds, thoughts, the light, all particles of senses are moving with it.

I look around and see the leaves of the trees. They are everywhere like the wind. The silence is growing together with the distant roar. That is the roar of the invisible ancient sea. It is everywhere. It is crystal. I am swimming in it and I am invisible and transparent myself. I wonder what is up above there. There… there is the sun, but is it inside or higher?

Has the sea always been there? Yes, I remember now that I knew about it before. But not exactly, only that I was in it. I did not know for sure if it was the first encounter – I did not remember that. There were people. They were busy with something, but all of a sudden it became perfectly quiet. I searched for the reason of the silence and looked up above me. The violet clouds were covering all the space, the river, the woods, the village. They did not cover the sun, but were soaking in it changing their color where there was more of it. The sun dissolved and transcended them, and everything they covered was filled in with the golden light.  That light and the clouds covered all the sounds.

I remembered that I thought often about that later. They were that sea. I felt its waves and then I felt especially happy. February, February, February… why was it spinning in my head? I was in that sea in February.

The same light, the same smell of water.

That emerald land… - it was there too. Yes, right then at the square in front of the Department of the exact sciences. It was that very sea! It was that, what I felt later, not the land across the miles.

Freedom in creativity, in space? The sea is simply its part, its reminiscence, or is it one the same?

How does the sea look when it is calm? It is clear; it is azure with little even lines of clouds above it. It is the same in the sands.

I wonder if I saw that ancient sea only when I was alone, or do I see it all the time? What does it mean to see? Does it mean to know, to feel it or to be in it?

It is the silence; it is ancient – that much I knew. When I was in it, I was with it and I was everywhere and always.


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