As I so fondly recall my childhood in Poland, so many endless summers spent outdoors, playing in the haystacks, finding refuge in the depths of the woods, creating worlds that only a young and curious mind can understand. At one with nature. so too have my cousins Dagmara, Michał, Ewa and Julia found a home in the wilderness, creating a world very much their own, composed of branches, twigs and rocks and great imagination. The line between fantasy and reality exists outside my doorstep.
Krakow is one of my most beloved cities. the main square is perhaps the most charming in all of Europe, lined with cafes and eateries, the sounds of a street musician in the distance mingling with the clanking of a horse and carriage upon the cobblestones… Time seems to flow at a slower pace in this old capital of Poland, once the home of kings and queens, drawing great scholars and artists from the entire world. It is fascinating to experience this city which so eloquently connects tradition with modernity.
My dear friend Ola lives in this cultural mecca and we had a wonderful time catching up on all the beautiful stories of our lives…wandering the mysterious streets of the Old Town and Kazimierz…breathing in the life that is uniquely Polish.
I arrived to Sanok to the warm embrace of my dear mother who I have not seen since my departure so many months ago. There is nothing like the feeling of home. Bykowce lies in southern Poland, not far from the town Sanok where my mom was raised with her 6 siblings and where I spent much of my childhood. My aunts, uncles and several of my many cousins remain in close proximity, and there is much activity and laughter filling this ancestral air. Our ‘villa’ is tucked away beneath the woods, designed and built 13 years ago by my mom and her brother Grzesio who lives here with my aunt Gosia and their daughter Dagmara. It is a beautiful life filled with simple pleasures. When my uncle is not healing the sick at the hospital or at home, he escapes to the woods to hunt, sometimes joined by another uncle Eligiusz, a forester. My hunting consists of picking berries in the garden while the rooster crows…I find refuge in the solemnity of the woods, the same woods where the Jews were saved by the local peasants during times of war, so many stories lay upon these lands…in this time which is told by the rising and falling of the sun, I have found quietude.
