Ostatnia aktualizacja: 2020-04-22. Autor: Milena

I wrote „lost between hydrangeas” and I started wondering what it reminds me of.

Lost in time? Women who run with the wolves? Desert island?

There may be many connotations, with a germ of truth in each of them. Like in life. There’s no black and white, but a mixture of colours. Sometimes an odd mixture.

A blaze of colour like a road dotted hydrangeas.

I remember one car trip from Angra to Biscoitos. I was in a hurry, with completely no sense. The view of hydrangeas by the road took my breath away. And I didn’t stop. What a pity.

One month later they weren’t so beautiful anymore. They finished blossoming. They have their validity date, similarly to events in our life.

And if I had a time machine?

Events have their beginning and their end. People show up and vanish. And hydrangeas don’t bother. Every year they blossom again. If I had time machine, maybe I would have stopped by them. Or maybe not. I won’t change the past. I only hope to stop next time.