It was May, peppermint in the air… and it took me to England’s Lakeland.

A rainy greeting. It was raining quite hard, although not all the time (as in the UK).

I drove around and soaked up the surrounding landscape: Windermere, Grasmere, Keswick, Honister Pass, Buttermere…

In this lonely journey, I had an impression for a moment that I heard Słowacki in English

or English Słowacki, Wordsworth, but this was just an echo…

And so the first and second days passed. After sunset, I settled down by the lake and fell asleep.

The stars woke me up. Silence. The water was so still.

I looked at the lake and saw two moons. My eyes said goodbye to them and they disappeared over the mountain ridge.

And there was luminous darkness…

The third day and morning greeted me with a mist as thick as milk. I paddled in the water, listening.

Suddenly, the whole landscape began to change: the mists’ vapors curled up into a strange spiral. The clouds pierced the light. The valley took on color.

The Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.

The beauty of the beginning of a new day for a moment symbolically represented the repeated act of creation.

After a while, everything stopped. Then I heard a greeting from a man on the shore of the lake, who saw me taking pictures:

– Hi! Did you take it?! I have been visiting this place every few weeks for the last 15 years, but I have not seen anything like today.

Well, in the next 12 years I also have not seen anything like that…