The Spirits of God’s Garden

And so I stand once again at the Marshrutka station, a cappuccino in my hand in a city that I’ve laughed and cried, loved and suffered, enjoyed and hurt. This city is infinite.

As my host had just picked me in front of his house asking me where to, taking me in his car, dropping me at the station, my heart moved of such selfless kindness closing the experience of only one shared evening here at the dirty but well beloved station this morning. “You’re the best guest, I don’t do this for everyone”, he says, hugging me, getting into the car honking the horn, waving goodbye for the last time. I can feel tears rising into my eyes.

All my memories coming back, good and bad, emotional ups and downs with people I love, I used to love, who love me, people who thought they loved me and who only pretended to love me. Memories of great joy, happiness and deep love for the right and the wrong people. The sun is shining bright on my face. 

Only yesterday I spent the last day with my brother going up the mountain in that tiny rusty Soviet cable card I knew so well from another time. The most beautiful view over the bridge, the river decorated with white rocks. The higher we go the more beautiful the view over the entire city, the old monastery, dipped in the colors of melancholy, the bloody orange pink of a dawn closing a day that’s been meaningful to the universe. It’s our last night together in the country I love so much. Flashback, taking me back as we’re arriving on top, all the ancient fun park covered by the blood red light of the sinking sun, magical, my heart jumping around in excitement like this of a child getting sweets. You light my way.

The mountains in all their amazing shapes and colors moving by me. 

Running around trying to find someone who will start the old Ferris wheel for us the operator still trying to free a person from their stuck belt of the falling tower we joke around about falling down the gondola or getting stuck on top of the wheel. At least we’re having a magical view of a deserving sunset. Slowly in the shadow of the pine trees the sun moves behind the snow covered peaks. High up in the air my adrenaline is rushing through me partly due to the height, partly from my throwback, recovering my excitement for this unique place as I saw it for the first time, another part for having my brother next to me in this astonishing environment being able to share parts of my heart with him. 

After these magical days that could not have been anymore beautiful in the perfect winter wonderland of the highest Caucasus, walking in the deepest snow that we’ve ever seen, swinging in the tallest mountains in freedom, breathing the clean air of the heights, throwing ourselves into the glittering snow, blinded by the sun that’s been our best friend for the holy days making our experience even more memorable. Being with old friends guiding us through the ancient land of the Svans, teaching us their history, their language, legends and stories, their national heroes, about the world’s most famous mountaineer of their own clans accompanying our journey. “You’re already half Svan Lina”.

Unforgettable Christmas days, having my loving family by my side, as always making my time so much richer, brighter, blissful to its extent.

Going down again, our beloved gondola packed with seven instead of the limited number three, watching the last seconds of the sun finally hiding behind the mountain. 

Over our last meal together above the river I tell him about my love, back then four months ago to the day, in the same place my heart got broken as it opened up completely to this one person leaving me behind without a word, tearing me apart, causing me endless tears of pain, disappointment, ignorance and rejected unfulfilled love. My brother looks at me in sympathy while I tell him my story. It’s Christmas I think he’s here with his family. Pictures keep coming back to my heart and mind as we go back to our home for the night. Welcomed with full glasses of all products of grape juices turning into their traditional drinks, we sit for hours connecting our cultures. As my head starts spinning we slowly close this heartfelt day. 

Synchronizing my all time in this country from the first day I touched their ground until today with all people in it, places visited, the love felt, the heart breaks, the bliss lived, the experiences that made me understand life in this world, showed me true companionship, love and friendship. A place that taught me more about who I am, has been healing me, transforming me in all so many ways, has offered me light in the darkest of moments, humbled me, carried me through all times, keeping me safe in my pain of growth. When times seemed unbearable, too tough to breathe, it sent me as many angels as it needed for me to feel loved and safe again. Never left alone only for a blink of an eye. 

~ The Spirits of God’s Garden ~