My childhood memories are mostly from Buhalnita, where I would spend my summers with my cousins and grandparents. Hay gathering is still a way of life in this village and my grandmother Maria is ready to make another “capita” (haystack).
The sun was setting over Keswick, Lake District, England and this lovely fellow walked slowly into the frame. He stopped and pondered and so did I, as I pressed the button.
It was a sunny day in May when me and my Shortbread friends (that’s our group name) went on a photo walk to Clevedon, near Bristol. This is a peak of the pier in Clevedon, overlooking the eternally blue ocean.
When I smell pine cones, I am transported to my young years in the village of Buhalnita. I spent many a days as a child wandering through the bright and cool pine tree forests of the Carpathian mountains. A wise man once said “If you don’t have grandparents in the country side, you should buy some.”
Ceahlau Mountain shining in the summer sun in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania.
Nothing reminds me of home more than the beauty of flowers, watching majectically over the still valley. Summers are for the mountains and our family mountain is definetly Ceahlau, the stone giant, whose view can be seen for miles from many corners of Moldova and Transylvania.