A couple of years ago, in the village from the hills (we are in a plain area, so the hills are quite a thing to have a village on here), which village I have a like-hate chemistry with, in one of the rare quiet-landscape-moments, we went up on one of the smaller hills to make a phone call.
We passed the thorny plants, the winding savage plants, and we sat down on the shorter grass. Out of the bushes a small dear appeared. As I was sitting down it approached me. I froze, because it seemed so unreal. Later I thought that the baby dear must have been confused by my position and my maroon clothes.
It stopped right near me, and for a moment we all looked like statues. Then I reached out with my hand, while trying to decide if I wanted to pet it or not.
A high pitched scream scared us humans wit the same scare the dear was probably experiencing. Suddenly realizing I am not what it thought, it was screaming and in a few seconds it disappeared behind some other bushes.
I am glad I did not touch it after all, and it all remained a weird fantastic moment to later talk about. Its world and our world were parallel and they should have remained so.
No sightseeing (to many semi stray dogs), no wild nature pictures (just our yard), no grandparents' village feeling, but a few moments like these in a couple of years make the like part in the mixed feelings I have about this place.
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