Forever Young

With everything that has been happening the past couple of months in Syria, I have become very nostalgic. I miss the streets, the restaurants, the people, the indescribable feeling knowing that this is a country that has been around to see all other civilisations grow, many of which have also perished.

I miss my home, and not just Damascus. I miss the very quiet, uneventful small town of Safita, which lives in a different life-space continuum than the rest of the country, like many villages worldwide do. It’s a place where people take their time to age, where roads and buildings almost never change, nor does the scenery. It’s a place where time is measured by harvesting seasons, of olives and figs and nights spent on balconies counting stars and doing little else.

And with the crazy, ruthless schedule of mine in Dubai, I yearn for this escape, where a week seems like a month, or two, dragging on and never ending.

Photo taken during summer, two years ago.

Canon EOS 400D | Sigma 30mm | 1/250 sec | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | Natural sunlight

Stoic

Granny

Blacksmith

This is my grandfather (dad’s dad) at 90 years of age. He has been smoking for 80 years – wraps his own cigs with his own tobacco. He has been working all his life as a blacksmith, and, living in the village high up in the mountain and eating a healthy diet, he is thankfully in good health.

I just love the way he smiles

[old version]

Little Miss Sunshine