†22 May, 2009

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Still searching for some great reward. (Kris Kotarski, Bieszczadzki Park Narodowy, July 2008) Once upon a time, when I was a little boy, I walked down from a grassy mountaintop after a long hike. I was tired, and I wore a frown. I was frustrated that I was too old to be carried on someone’s shoulders like my little cousin, and equally upset that I was too young to be on equal footing with the adults. She was eight, maybe nine, and she liked to sing the same gypsy folk songs that my mother and aunt so adored. She wore a loose sweater—I do not remember if it was purple or blue—and I wore a red flannel shirt with clear plastic buttons. I did not like folk songs, I liked my dad’s Depeche Mode cassette. I was walking behind the others humming a tune to myself, when, during a moment of collective silence, she slowed down, looked at me with a smile and told me that I should enjoy the view. “What is so special about this view?” I asked.* She crinkled her nose, and looked up toward my aunt in search of approval. “Maybe some day, when you are older, you will understand…” * My aunt took this photograph twenty-some years later, and showed it to me last month. Same spot, give or take 50 meters.

Still searching for some great reward. (Kris Kotarski, Bieszczadzki Park Narodowy, July 2008)

Once upon a time, when I was a little boy, I walked down from a grassy mountaintop after a long hike. I was tired, and I wore a frown. I was frustrated that I was too old to be carried on someone’s shoulders like my little cousin, and equally upset that I was too young to be on equal footing with the adults.

She was eight, maybe nine, and she liked to sing the same gypsy folk songs that my mother and aunt so adored. She wore a loose sweater—I do not remember if it was purple or blue—and I wore a red flannel shirt with clear plastic buttons.

I did not like folk songs, I liked my dad’s Depeche Mode cassette. I was walking behind the others humming a tune to myself, when, during a moment of collective silence, she slowed down, looked at me with a smile and told me that I should enjoy the view.

“What is so special about this view?” I asked.*

She crinkled her nose, and looked up toward my aunt in search of approval.

“Maybe some day, when you are older, you will understand…”

* My aunt took this photograph twenty-some years later, and showed it to me last month. Same spot, give or take 50 meters.