Cherry picking is probably my favorite activity, after laying in the sun and reading. I love that my Grandma planted a bunch of cherry trees, and that now we get so many of them every year. They’re so full of juice, and better eaten fresh, right after being picked. Oh how I love my summers in Serbia ❤️
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It was one of those hot days, where every building seemed inflamed; touch their stone and you’ll feel the burn. People were either hiding in the shadows wishing for a draft that never came, or sipping cold drinks at some terraces where you could see sweat dripping from the waiters’ foreheads.
Despite it being a little town, it wasn’t the middle of nowhere… it was in Serbia. A country where my ancestors come from, where women are put together, even for the simplest hangout. So I wore a beautiful white linen dress, with a print of blue flowers. I went to the farmer’s market in that outfit, and for a moment, I felt stuck in a 50’s era movie, and I wish that feeling lasted longer.
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I can’t believe I’m a city girl… unless an insect gets in the way and then my scream reveals it to me.
Tending to a simple life where my main worry is which book am I gonna read today, or what vegetable should we harvest in the garden for lunch, or what’s the best time for me to go sunbathing, but ending up falling asleep because the sun rays are so gentle… then having my dog wake me up by laying his fat ass on top of me; what’s better than that. Well spoiler alert, not the city life.
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I sat there between the cherry trees, smelling the freshly cut grass and blooming roses. I was reading yet another Greek tragedy… I’m so fond of those. My life hasn’t been as adventurous as Ulysses sailing the Ionian sees. I haven’t met no cyclopes, or witch-goddess, or even sirens. Or even had a mortal love. Those stories aren’t just tragedies, they’re so vibrant they make you feel alive.
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Some days I wake up and I see life in color. Sometimes the colors I see are so bright, they don’t even feel real. Sometimes, my mind sees colors that don’t exist… and some days when I wake up, everything’s in shadows. The deepest blacks overcoming whites, until there’s no more. Until it’s all just grey.
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Madison Kennedy 