1 August 2008. Sun behind hills. Rafts of mist--gold and rose--just over the ridge. Two crows, one swooping down like a stone, wings spread in the last instant.
Pierwszy Sierpnia, Warszawa. The first of August, Gabryela's birthday. Fine birch trees in a grove, garden with patio stones, this way and that. We sit outside the old sloping country house, its high windows, white curtains billowing in the breeze. Just inside, someone at a piano, hidden--a Mazurka, or a Polonaise. Country dances from long ago...time of sadness, time of joy...
"If the bird above is flying towards you..."
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