It’s beautiful in Bucovina and you can’t even tell it’s winter. It’s still strong, clean, mountain air. The girls are moving here and there, working on something unseen. Intrigues are woven. Kind of like the old courtyards.
It was indoor weather around this time a few years ago. It’s time to go out, to walk. And the locals are great.
A man came to me after taking her eyes off the GPS to ask me where she could stay at night. I showed him the place, a guesthouse somewhere on a hill, but he didn’t understand what I was saying. I showed him with my finger, it was obvious, but he only trusted the device.
How about forgetting about GPS and admiring nature?