Until The Sky Falls Down On Me

Back from Smolian. I'm in love with a mountain. Ain't I a pervert:)

I had a big grin on my face the moment I set foot in Plovdiv. It did not vanish during the 'hard drive' on an old Chavdar bus along the narrow and winding road to one of my favorite cities ever. Last time I went there, four years ago, I was a different person, and my stay there made me so intensely happy, that I lived.

This time the mountain gave me so much joy, again, that I felt more alive than I had for ages. The skyline sparkled with almost uncreated light, the rocks resembled magical castles (in my daughter's words), the lakes had a deep green glow - every breath there pierced me to the core. The whole valley holds me captive, but most of all - one particular spot where we camped last time, and where I took the rest of the gang to share some of the wonder I felt. Whether they felt something akin to my emotion is irrelevant. What mattered was the feeling, while I stood above the lake, on a mossy clearing among the pine trees, of a profound union between me and this place. I fit there. Something there opens a crack in me and the light pours in. At times like this I know I'm created, and I'm thankful. At times like this I unravel mysteries and see visions. I can't share them, though:) Not this side of heaven.

Speaking of er...heaven, there's a construction site close to my paradise lake. By the end of 2008, a hotel complex will rise there, called Dream Lake. Somehow these dreams won't touch my life, I'm afraid. There's sharing and sharing.

I will probably edit this post when I go back to Sofia, and will post pictures from my trip, just to prove that you don't see what I see when you see what I see:) This is a decent answer to the question why there's more than one soul.

The promised picture.