Late autumn day, I sit in the shade of walnut branches. The cold wind intertwines its fingers through my hair. The grass is still damp. I'm a little cold, but I don't mind. I follow everything carefully: every leaf that quietly falls to the ground, the rays of the Sun that disappear under the horizon, and the swallows that hastily leave their homeland. I can smell grapes spreading through the yard. Some may be depressed by these melancholic tones of autumn, but in my opinion she is gentle and gentle, despite her appearance. Nostalgic memories of early childhood spring through my mind. How many carefree days there are that will never come back.
I remember every moment of happiness that period brought me. Meeting first friends and first sitting in school. Feelings of nervousness and shame mixed with joy and excitement. I never dreamed of all the challenges that were printed among those lines. I remember the first trip on the shores of the Adriatic Sea. Summer, hot sand, the chirping of seagulls, endless blue, the smell of salt… That was the first time I learned to swim. I remember a little girl with dark hair, bright brown eyes and rosy cheeks who constantly splashed on the water, feeling so small in front of so much water. I remember a weekend on the mountain, skiing in the snow glistening due to the refraction of the sun's rays, my red burnt face because I forgot the cream and the incredible descents down the slope.
Suddenly I was startled by the rustling of leaves, and I noticed that night had fallen. Silently and calmly, she surrounded the yard. That darkness is suddenly disturbed by a star, which shines shyly. It reminded me of a time when I was terribly afraid of the dark, as if a ghost was hiding in it, just waiting to grab me and pull me behind it. She would be driven away by the dimming of the Sun, and she would flee where the night travels, even to the other side of the world to scare some other children. But when my mother gives me a gentle, warm look, then my fear disappears like magic. Now I realize how it is actually a fear of the unknown, the phantom, when I don’t know what awaits me because I haven’t experienced it. That is why the night is such an awe-inspiring ruler.
I remember a walk between the walls of Split that was lapped by the waves and a loud murmur in the streets. The spirit of the old town is well preserved, and everyone can see the witnesses of those turbulent days under those thick walls. In a quiet corner among the memories, I keep a picture of one spring. Twilight. The purple sky, and I run overflowing with happiness as far as my legs carry me, a rush of adrenaline, as if I had an unfulfilled longing for freedom. I have a small wreath of dandelions and white works on my head. The air smells of hyacinths and tulips. I walk barefoot on the green hairs of the grass among which the naughty breeze is blowing. You can hear the flutter of the wings of birds cruising the sky, and I feel as if I am flying with them, grabbing as much life and freedom as possible.
I go back to reality and get up to banish the pessimistic thought that my youthful days are over, gone forever, and that they will never come back, but I realize how they never really left. As long as I have liveliness, strength, beautiful memories, will and serenity, she will not leave me, even if I was a gray-haired old woman. My eyes will always shine with a mischievous chestnut glow. As long as we carry that feeling inside us, we are young inside.
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You have to learn to be good in all seasons