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On Sunday morning I make scrambled eggs with fresh basil and olive oil. And the first song which I hear is called Yellow.

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

and everything you do

Coldplay “Yellow”

People who appear in my life are like stars. They make streams of light illuminate various spaces during my journey. Old and new friends.

Sunmi – she has a yellow and brown checked shirt. We sit together and eat breakfast in our new job, and only then do I feel how much I missed being together with others in a public space.

Liza is sitting on the wall outside The Crane Bar. She wears a caramel and gold shirt, the same smile and enthusiasm when I come on my bike to the old square of Galway. The name of this cozy pub evolved into the small crane which is still on the square. We haven’t seen for two years. Meanwhile, Liza who is the director made few films. One of them is the York Witches Society.

There are wooden tables around, so we sit down at one of them. The sun brights and this nice corner remind us about our friend Trevor Conway’s poetry evening and our writing group. Time is no hurry but stops in an awesome relaxing moment.

Yvonne is walking by Sea Road of Galway’s West End. We met recently at Castle Ellen House during her Town & County exhibition. Today we meet for an interview. At the Secret Garden, we order an almond cake full of forest fruits and Long Life tea. The girl in an orange apron with paintings of cats brings to us flowery jugs.

Yvonne is a contemporary multimedia Irish artist who became a character in my book about Irish women who do something with passion. I will publish a separate article about her soon. Meanwhile, we both feel great in the atmosphere of Secret Garden, where also the black and white cat sits on the next armchair. We could talk endlessly, but Yvonne has to catch the train to Athenry.

However, I stay in the cafe, because Michael, uncle Yvonne and the owner of Castle Ellen House, whom I recently described on this blog will come over in a moment. He has also come to Galway and we want to see you. At a round stained glass table, Michael tells me about old Galway maps and he notices a wonderful stone wall in the cafe garden made from Connemara’s rocks. This time a black and white cat is stretched on the opossite table opposite with a beautiful pink peony fragrant behind us.

I come back home, beaming with the sun that shines in each of these people. And the next day I eat an apple pie on the Corrib River with my friend Aga. The kayaks glide on the navy water and I tell her about my sunny begging of autumn.

There are more such meetings, some of them take place in letters and at the level of the heart, such as the annual connection with the cameral Poetry Festival in Łazieniec – the White Locomotive (Biała Lokomotywa).

This is just a short reflection after a long time of no blogging. But, so many things happened and crossed at one point recently. So, I need time to name my feelings. I will write something more about it, soon. Thank you for your patience, Readers!