Summer Wine

Summer Wine Summer of 1960 was the season of my life, war and poverty had kept the family apart and for the first time… and as it turned out, the last time too; in a summer house overlooking a fjord and mountains that still had snow on peaks. My mother´s generation has long since gone, as has my generation too and I´m the only thread leading back to that summer of beauty tingled with melancholy. It was as we knew this was the end of something precious was slipping through our hands. The days we spent together were covered in a halo of clear light before light dims and the future is a track yet to be explored. Yes I saw the crossroad and took a path which lead me away from what I knew and held dear, it happened this way, a kismet of which no one is the master? Sometimes when driving along I suddenly laugh thinking of bygone days, laughter of love that will be with me to end of days.