MORNING STORY

...elin aamuja kun kuuntelin yksin, odotin sumua...

(Verenpisara: Aamunodottaja)

I have had quite an active weekend: there was no proper time to pay serious attention to the Internet until now. On Saturday and today I was cleaning up my room and the living room. A must to do since rats and snakes were about to invade that dust soon. However, I was pretty busy on Friday too... short but nice trip has happened.

So, Friday. There is an errand for me in one small village in Dolenjska-region; Southern Slovenia. Two-hour drive with a bus from Ljubljana. Early morning bus. Oh, I have had to get up very early. I buy the ticket, I buy some fresh pastry, I find my bus. Slightly sleepy. The drive starts. Yet I do not fall asleep; the coffee I drank is strong. I put on the headphones. Listening to my mp3-player's music I stare into the gloomy grayness. Foggy Ljubljana. Yuck, I am so fed up with it. As the bus gets out of the city, sun starts to show its shiny circle through disappearing curtains of the fog. Forests and villages, villages and forests. All of a sudden, change happens. Totally different atmosphere. Feeling of the city is gone. When I put my mp3-player off, I notice the driver has switched the radio station: there is now this goveja muska, Slovenian pop-folk music playing. The last city people get off the bus. I see old village ladies and their husbands entering. I hear the dialect spoken. As the bus would drive some years back in time. When passing another forest, there is hoar-frost. Glittering, so glittering. The bus crosses the river. Wide and slow river in clear morning sun. Mists rising from the water. Dancing mists. Glittering, so glittering. Blissful sunny day is about to begin.

The bus reaches the village where I have to get off. The air is fresh. Cold. I still have some time to wait, so I go for a cup of green tea. To the village bar. In the bar, there is the waitress and one older man. I get my tea; cheaper than in Ljubljana. I think the people in the bar probably wonder a bit where I came from. For some moments, I feel as in Conor MacPherson's play The Weir. Like that I would be somewhere in Ireland, entering sleepy village pub, young stranger from the capital disturbing the locals. Then, another man enters. ''I have seen two wolves on the road,'' the man says. ''I stopped my car and watched them.'' And the people in the bar start to discuss about sheep.

Later that day and after the errand I happen to have a quick sauna. In one nice and fancy SPA nearby the village where those wolves were seen. And when I got home, I just fell asleep.

Some images I have taken...