I am a fan of spring, the days are longer, the snow melts away unearthing the ground below, the temperature gradually increases, layers of thick winter clothes are peeled away, people emerge from their holes of hibernation. Spring means fresh buds on the empty trees, young grass pops out from the brown ground, floral and pastels are worn in preparation for summer. It's that 're-birth' time of year that everyone can't help but love.
Yes, spring is on it's way... but, it hasn't arrived just yet.
There is a short season that I believe hits just before the Spring we all carry in our imaginations, of birdies chirping and flowers blooming. A six to eight week period of a pre-spring purgatory. The mud season.
Dirt roads aren't all bad, there is a kind of nostalgia that comes with a dirt road, its bumps and imperfections adding to its charm. And, most of the year I stand by this statement, the small exception being mud season. The mud in Moldova is different from the mud I remember from back home. The dirt in Moldova is rich, so rich I think even I could plant a seed and grow something in this ground. It's like walking in mud made from top soil. It's a sticky, squishy, black mud that stays on the bottom of ones shoes. A mud that would inspire any good action movie with a sinking-sand pit.
When I was little I was a big fan of Indiana Jones. The right mix of action and drama for my young mind, and lets face it, every little girl who grew up in the 90s had a crush on the studly Harrison Ford. So, one day while I was walking to work this reference to Indiana Jones came to me, after maneuvering through several patches of truly awful mud. When I was younger I used to play Indiana Jones with my brother and a close family friend. The three of us would go out to the unfinished storage space next to our friends house and play for hours. The front room of the space had an unfinished floor with two 2x4's planking across the room into the main finished room. We would pretend the unfinished floor was a sinking-sand pit. I remember that once, my brothers foot fell in and both our friend and myself quickly pulled him out of the sticky sand, it was quite the adrenaline rush for three kids who genuinely thought the floor would swallow us up. This is the sinking-sand type mud I encounter on my walk to work. My rubber boots creating a suction cup beneath my feet. I couldn't help but smile and hope that the children of Nisporeni have similar imaginations, and could make these puddles of mud into a thrilling scene from an action movie.
As much as I hate the mud a part of me was proud to turn the muddy situation, that everyone has such a burning disdain for from negative to positive, and recount a fond memory from my childhood, the nostalgia of the dirt road wins again.
No comments:
Post a Comment