Monday, July 12, 2010

Enchantment

There have been moments in my stay that have been marked by beauty. I have an aesthetics-driven nature. I thrive in an atmosphere of splendor. My senses are heightened, as well as my productivity. If I’m surrounded by magnificence I want nothing more than to put the image on paper, whether by ink or by paint. Yet I find myself far from these means, and so am forced to cast the images into my memory, relaying a sadly diluted version to my laptop screen several nights later.
Duso is a hunter, and on the second night of my stay in Slovakia, he took me to the forest. The forest ended up being a field, sprawled across the shallow hills of Roznava. He pointed to many deer as he searched for his prize, the wild boar. After a while, Nasta and I grew restless and wandered off as the sun began to descend. There’s something particular about dusk that allows every scene a glimpse of mystique. The lowered sun cast gold through the high, brown grass, and illuminated the hills below. What had been a seemingly ordinary vision was transformed. I stood alone in the field, letting my eyes drift across the horizon, my movements slowed so as not to break the delicacy of silence. I noticed for the first time church steeples rising timidly between the creases in the hills, and red clay roofs cradled in the grasses. The sky grew drowsy, and I shifted to auditory awareness. The silence had been a deception. The chirping of crickets is one of the loveliest sounds in the world. It is one that slips, unnoticed, away from perception and ingratiates itself into silence. It refreshes tranquility, but then belongs to it, like a dash of mint or leaves of cilantro. Nasta called to me, and my spell was jolted. I turned and walked reluctantly towards the car, my body washed in golden light and soft cicada music.

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