Ilya and I arrived at our cottage in Karashamb, a small village 40 minutes from Yerevan. It was a quiet place surrounded by trees full of blooms. They mostly grow apples and walnuts in that region.
The stone structure we stayed in was full of inspiring details. Books, coffee, fresh mint leaves. All natural linens.
Ilya played in the sand pit outside the front door of the cabin. The owners of the cabin are both professionals in books and publishing. They have two children and decided to relocate to get away from the chaos of the capital.
Ilya and I took a walk in the afternoon.
As I was writing this in my journal, the late afternoon sun was falling on the pages…in the most beautiful way. It gave me a warm feeling in the chilly cabin.
That afternoon I completed a small volume of Hafez poetry. It was all about love and wine. I read while Ilya slept peacefully.
That night, the sky became dark and the wind started to blow. Ilya started to sing “Rain, rain, go away.” As if he knew it was about to rain.
musafira 