16 April 2010. Nicola heading up the bed at dawn, her small head and delicate ears, leaned towards my own... Rapprochement...
As with Natalia, yesterday evening, singing Smuglianka, the partisan song with Ukrainian roots. Pure liveliness of each line, an even start, quickly building. She's inadvertantly demanding--no way to slow down here--no "wait for me's." You're in it or you're not, dancing with a country girl in the Podole, flaring skirt, flashing eyes... The maple tree--memory of something brilliant and vast...
Narrow paths, disappearing into the marshes...
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