While visiting my family in the country side, I wanted to visit the ancestral lands that are in the ownership of my family for generations (with a short interruption during the communism regime).
It was a joy to see all those lands cultivated with grain, and a very dense forest. For me it was like an intant connection with the history of my people, and it came with an intense feeling of bellowing...
I do remember my grandfather coming on his horse to inspect the crop on these lands, and I still remember the sparks in his eyes whenever he was talking about "The Land".
I will probably never have these sparks for the land, but it will always have my respect.
A corner of our forest
And my Actifit report from yesterday:
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