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Last week I came back home to my little village in the south of Poland. Quite a spontaneous idea of my worried family due to the coronavirus outbreak in Veneto – but the moment I found myself sitting in a cosy café in the centre of Katowice after 14 hours spent on a bus, I realize how wonderful that idea was. No matter how much I enjoy spending time on my own in another country, it’s always a nice feeling of having all my friends in such a short distance away from me.

Right now I’m sitting by a large desk in my room, being embraced by the silence, sometimes interrupted by calm sounds. There are birds chirping in the woods nearby, the cat snoring on the bed (yes, cats can snore!), a dog barking somewhere far away. When I look through the window, I can notice the line of my beloved mountains, waiting to be visited as soon as the weather stops being so inconsistent. It happened that during one hour I could witness all conditions, one after another: rain, hail, snow, sun, repeated.

Four days after my arrival, I woke up seeing all the neighborhood covered with a layer of snow. I took my dog and we went for a long walk before breakfast. The next day the snow was entirely gone, a day after we had almost +15 degrees. Winter wonderland doesn’t seem to happen again but still, I’m beyond happiness that I could have that white landscape, even if only for several hours.

This is actually my favourite place in the village, that S curved road going down the hill, with the only “cow” sign in the area (a plot twist – I’ve never seen any cow here). The best spot to watch the sunset, as behind those trees there are only large fields and some tiny hills on the horizon. Nothing to interfere with the sky.

All that nature, the silence around, the feeling like I am in a totally different world, inspires me so much to create and to transfer my thoughts into words. Countless handwritten pages to my penfriends, some of them waiting for my answer since December. Days when I can’t even find my desk under the stacks of art materials and tons of pieces of ripped paper; when my fingers are covered with glue. Liters of tea and coffee.

I’m trying to get as much as I can out of that “home time” before going back to reality – as well as going back to adventures, both big and small, local (all in all, I’m still under that precautious “quarantine” thing). Getting ready for wandering again.

Surrounded by nature

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As the days are getting longer, and the sun is shining on a cloudless sky more often, I feel the need to take advantage of that and get out of the city. On one Wednesday morning I hopped on a train and literally twelve kilometres later I found myself in a completely different environment. It seemed to me unbelievable that I’m living so close to nature and I’d never really been there on my own.

Without further hesitation, I went into the woods. Despite the fact it was early February, I could easily notice lots of green standing out from a snowless-winter scenery – stones covered with a thick layer of moss, dark ivy hanging from the trees, lush ferns following the path, acres of grass on the open fields. And most of all, first snowdrops which, together with an unusual high temperature, emphasised the upcoming spring even more.

Having the heavy yet somehow pleasant wind as a company, I reached the top… and my breath stopped for a moment. Even though the peak was merely a bit above 500 metres a.s.l. the view all around was simply astonishing. Perfect clarity of the air made it possible to see the snowy mountains far away in the north. I was speechless – but I could hear somewhere behind my back “Ah, che bello…!” I coudn’t agree more.

Back then I had no idea that a few days later I’d be watching the view from the opposite direction. I asked a friend about the plans for a weekend – and soon we were driving north, towards Dolomites. While gaining the height, the ground got thicker and thicker layer of snow, making it feel impossible that some kilometres ago there was no winter at all.

I can’t describe the awe I felt seeing a deeply frozen lake in front of a forest and rocky tops behind it. Hiking through the snow and with every single step getting closer to those peaks. Watching from above the valleys we were passing by not so long time ago. And thanks to the still air, being able to hear the real silence – sometimes interrupted by the flutter of bird’s wings or its singing. It made me realize how difficult it is to find a truly quiet place, and that we are always surrounded by sounds which we don’t really notice – untill they’re gone.

Every time I go somewhere, I come across such beauty that after coming back home I can’t believe it was real. No matter if that’s a few kilometres outside the city or a few hours of driving, a meeting with a squirrel in a park or a chamois high in the mountains, a stroll in a tiny forest or in a national park. I feel it’s not about the place in particular but more about our attitude. Being grateful for whatever happens, whatever we meet on our way.

That’s the most precious lesson I got last year.