We used to live in the city, but I was a village-kid at the same time, because I had my roots so much in my Mum`s village. I saw couple of days old calves, drunk the real milk straight from the cow, saw how the harvest, picked the vegetables and fruits straight from the garden, collected eggs from the chicken in the yard and watched the star fall in August nights.
It is hard to show places close to your hearth through photos, especially if the ones you loved are already gone. Actually the places really changes and you do not see it like it used to be any more after the people die you loves, but it still stays important.
I realized that I got adult when I lost the places I loved and felt comfortable at because of the death of my grandparents and other relatives. Of course life goes on and you get new places instead, but I think nothing can replace the places of the grandparents where you used to visit from time to time and felt like second home to you. To end the post in a positive voice I have two new places since then: my flat in Helsinki and my flat + the 9th district in Budapest.
The photos below are from Szany, partly reflecting how I saw it when it was my place and partly shown through the eyes of a visitor.¨
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