Where did my childhood go?

Part of it was on the roof of the old Turkish bath and on the narrow path to it. The high roof in the background (to the left of the bath) is our house, and above it is the attic that attracted me so much. How much trouble I've taken! The house was empty, but I always wanted to sleep up there, under the roof, under the stars.

There were always puppies growing on the roof of the Turkish bath - small, stringy blades of life poking through the old bricks and stones. To this day, when I see them somewhere, I feel this special emotion.

They laid cobblestones along the path to the bathhouse, and we scrubbed countless crabs on them. ❤️ By the side of the path was a small dwarf, and on either side of it were two large trees. There was always an open space between them, and on the most beautiful days there were sheets blowing across it - white sails that the wind unfurled like the sails of a ship.

Further down was the hedge - then just a hedge, now known as the goji berry. "Don't eat the red berries - you'll be poisoned," the adults kept telling us, but that only made us more curious.

And in the attic... I dragged a heavy chair under the skylight, struggling to move it, and when I finally managed, I cautiously stuck my head out to see if there was a Glarus nearby. If all was well, I'd reach out further, my eyes scanning the neighbouring rooftops, lost in the afternoon mist. It smelled of damp, of attic, of old cardboard and sooty tiles - that peculiar mixture of past, dust and sun.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)