THE PLACE YOU CALLED HOME

 

A day of driving slowly brings me closer to you. 

Closer to all those family memories that are linked 

to these parts of the world.

For memories are all that there is now.

Memories – my new reality.

It is here in this small village near Salzburg that we all meet. 

This is the place where everything merges, the place we are all linked 

to so deeply. All my life this place has been more to me than

just a village. From earliest memories I can remember how enchanted

I used to feel here, that it felt as if I could hear some 

kind of special music here.

But this time things are not so magical. This time there are not

the usual happy laughters on arrival. Instead of happy shrieks there is 

this lingering silence, those lonely tears wept quietly. We can all

feel the heavy silence that is your memory. You are still here, 

you are in everything around me. All those memories

sweep over me and make me smile. You are here in all that

I see. But I still miss you so much.

I can feel your presence here, in this place that you called home for so long.

This peaceful quiet lingers and seems to be with us wherever we go. 

Everything feels so unreal, as if all this has never happened, as it I 

would simply have to wake up from this dream and you would sit here

by my side, drinking a coffee. I can feel your presence so clearly 

everything around me is closely linked to you.

All those happy days we spent here, all those memories that are linked 

to this place. There seems to be a story in every stone, every street, 

every sight I lay my eyes on. I let my mind wander as I slowly walk

the streets of Salzburg. 

This is the shop that you bought me my first

ever dirndl, and over there I got my swimming goggles, 

that I insisted should be worn with my new dirndl day and night.

Here you dried my tears from my first ever heart brake, over there 

we used to sit to watch the yearly fireworks.

There is our favorite ice-cream shop,

lemon it would be every time.

There are the cobblestoned tiny streets of the old town that we would stroll along, 

eating cheese sausages and drinking our almdudler, all talk and laughters.

It's the city of Mozart and Music, dressed up folks enjoying summer's Festspiele

all around town. And we would enjoy their dresses and the festive mood.

The dome was one of our favorite places to pass the time. Inside the amazing

church would make us speechless and outside we would watch the 

horses draw their carriages. 

The Salzach would change it's colour depending on the weather, 

sunshine would make it glisten in soft pastel greens, storm would make 

it look angry and grey, on rainy days it would take on these lazy

beige tones. And us? We spent forever and a day on the bridge, watching

the water, feeling the bridge vibrate and move with every step.

 

I remember all those sunny afternoons spent around Schloss Mirabell and the beautiful

gardens. Strolling around, smelling the roses and on hot days enjoying the shade

underneath the trees. There park would always be filled with music

and laughters. And we loved it, would while away the afternoons.

I will always love this city, nestling into the mountains, with the fortress guarding it.

I will always come back to this place whenever I need to feel close to you, I know that

you are here, with all our memories, this is our city. I can hear you whispering 

whenever I sit on a bench facing the river. I will sense you walking beside me whenever 

my feet hit the uneven stones. I know I only have to close my eyes and you

will be there by my side, but it's here, in this place that you called home that

I feel you more intensely. It is here that I feel as if you are just around 

the corner. 

This does not feel right, you not being there with us. It is strange to be here.

It was planned before you passed away and we thought it might help us all to

get used to the situation and try to handle it. We thought we might use this

possibility to say goodbye, to do this here, where you are present in 

every stone, every detail around us. 

It might sound romantic, but it is far from it. It is painful, 

it is hurting so much. All I can think of is that you should be here with

us. This place is not the same without you. The music has stopped 

playing when you stopped breathing. 

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camera: bronica sq-a

film: kodak tri-x

© nicole sprekelmann

STARE

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camera: bronica sq-a

film: kodak tri-x

© nicole sprekelmann

GREEN LEAVES

Early morning, footsteps on the stairs, naked feet touching the 

wooden boards. Lightly walking down the path towards the little corner that

pulls me towards it, smells softly playing with my senses.

Smiling while slowly picking some mint leaves for my morning tea.

Something about this early morning ritual makes me smile and feel blessed.

Those little things, that is what life is all about. Filling the kettle, listening

to it boiling the water, while I drop those green leaves into a glass.

Once the water is poured the smell starts to slowly spread and

fill the kitchen with minty deliciousness.

Taking my time, sitting down, my hands brushing the old wooden table.

Hot glass warming my hands. Fresh smell slowly waking me up for good.

Small sips waking up ever cell.

.............................

camera: bronica sq-a

film: kodak portra 160 nc, expired

©  nicole sprekelmann

51 DAYS

51 endless days

51 days of sadness

51 days of sweet memories

51 days missing you

51 days that I haven`t spoken to you

51 days and your voice is still filling my head

51 days trying to find a way to live

51 days of haunting thoughts

51 days of emptiness in my heart

51 days of feeling hopeless and alone

51 days of frozen blood in my veins

51 nights of bad dreams

51 nights feeling overwhelmed

51 nights feeling like a little child neeing its mom

51 nights remembering being tucked into bed

51 nights remembering your soft voice reading stories

51 nights wishing it wasn`t so

51 nights staring at the ceiling

51 nights wondering where one goes

.............................

camera: bronica sq-a

film: kodak portra 160 nc

© nicole sprekelmann

PAINFUL SILENCE

The silence between us seems to seep into every pore, crawling under my skin,

leaving me feel hurt and confused. I can only hear the voices inside my head,

remembering all those beautiful moments, getting lost on the roads to 

the past. A past that holds so many happy words and laughter. A past 

that knew no sadness. A past that is just that – past.

.............................

camera: bronica sq-a

film: kodak portra 160 nc, expired

© nicole sprekelmann

LOST AND CONFUSED

So what to do when the fog is slowly closing in on you?

You can feel it settling onto your skin, gripping you with it's

cold and wet fingers, giving you the shivers.

So what to do when the it is slowly closing in on you, 

blocking your view and making you stumble?

Trying to find your way through its dense little droplets.

So what to do when the fog is clouding your vision

and you don't know what is right and what is wrong,

Not knowing  which direction to turn, feeling all 

lost and confused.

What to do when all there is to see are those memories.

Memories and the fog. So what to do?

.............................

camera: bronica sq-a

film: tri-x, expired

© nicole sprekelmann

DRUNK ON WORDS

words

have

no

reality

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camera: nikon fm2n

film: kodak portra

© nicole sprekelmann

SWEET SUMMER DAYS

Summer afternoon – time is standing still. 

Sitting under the old magnolia tree.

Letting the mind wander, 

remembering those wonderful childhood summers. 

Your soft hands and warm kisses on my forehead would wake me in the morning.

You would ask about my dreams, your eyes sparkling. "A dragon?" You would

ask and smile, listening intently to my stories of the night.

Then our tiny feet would sleepily tumble down the 

stairs onto the sunlit terrace, to find our breakfast trays laden with summer treats.

Orane juice, croissants, marmalade, cherries and slices of oranges.

Leaving us with plenty of energy to ride the bike, 

spend hours on the swing in our garden,

climb over fences to hide in the forrest, drink endless 

glasses of sweet iced tea in  colourful glasses, 

climbing the trees in our garden,

splashing in our little pool. 

I can still smell  the sun lotion, hear the music playing from the

stereo. Can still feel the soft skirt brushing against my skin. I can still

remember those white wet sheets blowing in the evening  wind, 

all those warm summer rains and thunderstorms. 

I remember my little red bike and the rose bushes that I hit on my first 

ever solo ride... I remember my little pink swimsuit and how proud I felt to

be wearing it during those long summer afternoons in the pool. 

I can still hear the laughters from our neighbour kids running around

our garden.

Sweet endless summer days ...

.............................

camera: bronica sq-a

film: kodak portra 160 nc, expired

© nicole sprekelmann