where the ground comes to an end

We spend our first night in Bulgaria by the Vidin – Lom road. A mowed grassy spot right by the fence of something that looks like a summer house. I help with pitching the tent with a heavy heart – we’re surrounded by dogs’ barking, echoing in the night. I literally shiver with fear as…

morning pages – may

3 May Fruit and vegetable stalls begin to attract me. They remind me of markets in Bulgaria and bring me nostalgia for home. However, I already know that’s not a call to return. That’s the trap of Bulgarian summer. Its promise of eternity that can’t be kept. I don’t believe in it like I used…