VILLAGE LIFE

🌾 The sun was dipping toward the horizon, golden rays dancing across the wheat fields. The narrow road leading to your grandparents’ farm was familiar; every stone and rut remembered your childhood. As you pushed open the gate, the air was filled with the scent of freshly cut grass and earth, while in the background, the old barn doors creaked softly. Near the barn, Antoni and Michael adjusted the hinges. — Hold it steady, Michael, just a little more — muttered your grandfather, his hands trembling slightly, yet his eyes calm. Michał nodded, straightened, and cast a look at you full of recognition. — Well now… you’re back — he whispered, as if not wanting Antoni to hear. From the kitchen came the smell of apples and cinnamon. Grandmother Zofia carefully pulled an apple cake from the oven, while Helena stirred the ingredients in a bowl, smiling at Zofia. — Careful, it’s hot! — said your grandmother. — I know… Helena replied softly, glancing toward the door. You stepped across the threshold and felt time slow. Every sound, every motion had weight: the creak of the doors, the warmth of the baking, the glances full of tenderness. Everyone was here, as if they had been waiting for your return all along. For a moment? Or perhaps for longer. The choice was yours — but the countryside, with its quiet and the scent of apples, allowed every decision to ripen slowly.