Nostalgia

It's sort of surreal lookng back on the days when I first moved back here. I remember looking around and being practically over-whelmed by how physically different everything was. It was so different in fact that I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that people live in this country all thier lives and to them this was completely normal.

The crazy thing is that now, to me, this is somewhat normal. At the very least it isn't strange anymore. I've gotten used to wide streets and houses that are placed far apart. I've grown used to the hills (though my parents have informed me that this is flat compared to other places in the US). When I go into the suburbs and I can see the sky without looking almost straight up (because the buildings pilled high and in tight proximity) a sense of agoraphobia doesn't wash over me. And once I'm outside the suburbs I no longer feel saddened when I see trees rather than fields.

Hell, I'm used to seeing mailboxes!

Nevertheless, there is this one road that I can take to my house which I love to go on for two reasons: 1) few stoplights; 2) (and this is the main reason) at one point the trees thin and disappear for about a quarter of a mile. Suddenly on either side of me are fields which eventually give way to trees a hundred meters from the road. There is a dirt road which goes of the asphalt and squeezes between two of these fields. Then it disappears into the woods. That one quarter mile road looks so much like Poland that when I first traveled I felt my heart squeeze. Even now I look at those fields and pretend I'm in Poland. Then I can't help but feel sad when I soon find myself in anther typical American housing development.

I find that even though I've grown used to these once-strange surroundings...I'm still far more at home someplace else....

Seasons

Seasons in Poland have always been quite monotoned: In the summer it was warm, but never hot. Fall was practically nonexistant (It would last about a week. Suddenly all the leaves would be gone from the tree, no one had any idea where they went, and the weather began to bite). Winter rolled around which was always dark and cold. But oddly there was not that much snowfall despite what the name Poland would lead you to believe. Oh, sure, we got snow, but often times it would melt as it hit the ground, resulting in a very, very wet, muddy winter. Then spring came about a 100 years later, and it too would last for about a week. Suddenly it was warmer again, and there was a reason to live.

But even in summer there was rain. In fact I think I went two years straight without seeing a full week of sunshine. And I think I didn't have a white Christmas for four of the six Christmases I spent there. And even then the snow had become mud by midmorning.

But in America, wow, they really mix it up. Summer is hot and sweltering. In Autumn the leaves fall off trees and actually stay on the ground rather than fading from existance the moment they fall from the tree. Winter is cold, and very, very white. And spring is full of tulips and dandelions and rain. American seasons are exactly the way the pictures on calenders describe them to be! Each season has its own unique identity! Its rather amazing.

And throughout the year the days and night stay relatively in proportion. In Poland during winter the sun rose at 9am and set at 3pm. For six months out of the year the sun became a stranger because I was always stuck in school when it was up. Walking to and from school in the dark got very tiresome.

Whereas summer the sun rose at 5am and set at 9pm. I liked that pattern. If I couldn't remember what season it was because the weather of one barely differentiated from the next I could always count the hours of sun light to tell me what time of year it was ^_^