The Spirit

Ah, the River Tisza! Impersonated by many of our poets, writers and journalist (who can give you a far more better description than me) it comforably flows through the country. However this river wants the whole world for itself during the spring floods. It's as selfish as a child and as moody (and as beautiful) as a women.
We usually spent 1 or 2 weeks on the "beaches" of it in a tent, no civilization, no electricity, and only the usage of fire reminded me that we were living in the modern ages.
Someone told me that the Spirit of the river comes every morning just after sunrise to bless the banks of it. And every morning, as a young boy, I sneaked out from the tent and searched for it. I pictured the typical portrayal of the Death with black clothes and the classical scythe. Of course I never found it. But looking back from a few years distance I could say that, actually, I found the Spirit of the Tisza.
It's the feeling of unsure, dangerous, ever-changing yet amazingly calm and captivating flow of emotions, feelings and happenings. Some part of your life goes wildly, breaks the rules, and knows no boundaries, some carries the rubbish that other people threw in, the other one is the place for playing, swiming and having those unforgotten summer nights. But it's still ONE river. Use it as a boundary to divide, use it wisely to connect.

Takáts Eszter - Nyári dal (Summer song)






Photo: Sunset At Tisza 1 by semuta