How would you describe freedom to someone who doesn’t know?

My body is tired my mind wide awake as I push my bike out of the trees on to the top of the hill. Bright light and a sea of fog beneath me, the sun didn’t rise yet. I lean my bike against the bench I had spend yesterday-afternoon on and brush my hair to braid them into a plat. It is around 7am as I am anticipating the raising sun.

There she comes, peaking out in fiery red between the sharp teeth of a mountain range. Slowly making her way through the peaks to finally surpass them. The light changes, from bright blue into warm orange, passing through an endless range of shades in between.

As I am standing there by myself on the green gras at the top of this mountain watching the light of another day unfold, I could cry, laugh, scream instead I choose to be quiet like my surroundings. That whole peaceful scenario is so pure and beautiful and yet it is the most normal thing in the world. It happens everyday, every where. The sun is rising.

“How do you describe that feeling to someone that doesn’t know?”, I wonder.

To observe one of the most trivial, basic things of life: The rising sun. It happens every day, yet how many times do you pay attention to it? This whole scene passes by quiet and effortlessly and yet without the sun rising we wouldn’t exist. Undemanding and irreplaceable. Not there because of me and always there for me, if I want to.

Maybe that’s not even freedom, it’s just life? Life without all the made up things and believes we surround ourselves with, when they disappear for one moment.

There is no one else on that mountain, so I don’t need to try to put my feelings into words. I just feel them. Meanwhile I need to keep going because I have a whole valley to cross today. Back into the fog and freezing temperatures. Down into the flat civilized world, life full of all the made up things we surround ourselves with. My mood plummets with the elevation meters I loose. I am not sure why, probably I started to talk myself into it. A lovely coffee spot and a swim in the lake with some sunshine temporarily make me feel better.

It is only about 3pm and the light turns golden already. Which, although beautiful, triggers me with the uncomfortable incertitude of not knowing where I’ll sleep tonight. I have no idea where I am and where I’ll feel safe enough to stay over night, so I just keep on going. Village after village pass, they all look the same. I’d love to have a coffee break. But I have to keep going as long as the sun shines. How much time do I have left? One hour? Or not even?

Sometimes it takes very little to shift my moods. In the next village I ask a kid if there was a fountain somewhere. He says no. But then as I kept on driving overtakes me to tell me that, yes he remembered there was one on the graveyard. That pinch of kindness was enough to calm me down even though the was about to set. Everything around me seems to align with my mood as I fill up my bottles and turn into a lovely forest path. On the edge of the trees there is a bee-house and a bench with view on the sunset. I stop there, manage to eat with the last Sun-rays of that day on my face. Overcooked “Risoni” with Cheese, it looks discussing but I eat it all anyways.

By 6pm I am nestled in between the trees. A green cave, thick branches, leaves and tree-trunks around me. I still hear the church bells at 7 and one or two bikes passing on the path I came from. And then I sleep until the first shy light of day blinks through the thick branches above me.

**How would you describe freedom to someone who doesn’t know?
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Thank you for passing by, enjoy your Thursday!

All photos and words are owned by ©kesityu taken and written by myself.