First swimming lessons with an older sister—this is something the boy will surely remember for the rest of his life.
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My father taught me to swim in the Baltic Sea, where our family spent the summer in the small Lithuanian seaside town of Palanga.
That same summer, I was given a "Shkolnik"—a bicycle designed for boys—and my father taught me to ride it, showing me how to swing my leg over the saddle just like a boy would.
Our memories... We need them to live; they are our fuel, warming us from within.
Completamente de acuerdo Kaya. esos recuerdos de los que hablas son los mismos que te empujan, nos empujan, a hacer el tipo de foto que solemos hacer. Son como una mochila que llevamos colgada en la espalda y desde la que recibimos aquello que nos emociona y de lo que necesitamos hablar o bien con el lenguaje oral o este otro visual.
ReplyDeleteUn abrazo
The funny dad made a strong girl.
ReplyDeleteI agree, life goes on but memories stay with us... Have a nice Monday!
ReplyDeleteEspecially in old age, memories of youth seem far fresher and more meaningful than any from the the previous 3 or 4 decades. At least they do for me. I can't imagine the Baltic Sea being anything but COLD. I could be wrong, of course.
ReplyDeleteNo sólo los necesitamos para vivir, sino que en algunos momentos son lo que nos mantienen con vida. La foto es,nuevamente, una maravilla y ese grano que tiene le da un aire algo antiguo y nostalgico
ReplyDeleteLos recuerdos...
ReplyDeleteParéntesis en el andar de la vida donde nos detuvimos de manera algo más especial.
Abrazos, Kaya.