Remembering old places...

in #writing7 years ago

I think that each of us have that place deep inside of our memories that awake in our souls lots of good memories. One of mine is my grandparents village where I used to go each summer and winter when I was young. I always loved the fresh air and the atmosphere, the champaign and hills, animals and trees that I found there.

„There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourselve have altered.”(Nelson Mandela)


I regret that in the past summer I didn`t manage to visit my grandparents and when I put my first step back there I remembered every memory that I have there, in that unchanged place and I realized that I am not the same anymore. We are trapped in a permanent circle of change from whitch we can note escape.

But if we are not the same anymore, what then?


What remains to us if we are totally different?



Memories are the only thing left and there is nothing more satisfying that going back in time to old times and look at them with pleasure. That is what I done there, sitting on the same sofa and looking at the same hill like I done years back.

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