Yesterday we -the kids and I - took the bus to the house my granny bought in 1976. It's out in the countryside, between the big forest and a little bay.
It's the old country. It's easy to picture people having to leave this region due to potato famines and misery.
We go berry picking and mushroom picking. There's a rush to pick. Perhaps someone else, unclear who, might get to the picking before us. As if anyone could even noticably deplenish the amounts of berries in the forest.
At one point I saw a big bird soar towards the sky and told mom and Vanja to "look"!
But they only saw a fox running away.
I thought I saw the fox sneak back to look at us.
We were unsure.
Was it the fox or just an old tree stump sitting there across from us?
See that little little thing in the midst of the opening?
It was the fox, observing (from a safe distance) the rare visitors.
watching you watching me, a-ha.