A quiet gravel road among fields along the oaks and birches.
Heat. Scorcher. So harsh that the sunlight begins to hurt, and the breathe is almost taken away.
Slowly, but stubbornly, the Wind begins to chase the heavy clouds and invite the grain to dance. Some lost cornflowers accompany gracefully with nodding their heads.
And ... a vortex? Of hot air? Like a burning golden fire. A woman? Any mara? Or a dream...? Beautiful in her wildness, unbridled in thoughts. Fleeting. Full of grace, lightness and... sadness. Demon, the villagers would say. Probably because of fear. But maybe they are right? A bit? Maybe better to keep distance and only please eyes with the view...?
However dance with her, even for a moment, even if it would be the last dance, dance to death, is extremely tempting...
Południca.
Chabrownica.
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2022-06-16 18:27:53 +0000 UTC