My Russian Gypsy

After tea I went for a short walk down to the Gypsy Camp. Even in the early afternoon I could hear music playing and laughter coming from some of the tents and carts. The air was sweet with incense and exotic cooking smells. I wandered over down a side path and saw a tent whose markings looked familiar to me. Could it be?

I hurried over to it looking for a name sign or way to see who might live there but saw nothing to identify it. But the colors of the scarves fluttering in the wind and the wind chimes sweetly blowing let me know indeed I had been to this tent before. Not here, but in another place and time. Yet… if it were true, then my old friend Zaryana, the Russian gypsy, must be near.

I went up to the door flap and rang the little chime. From what seemed to be deep within I heard a soft voice cry out, “Just a moment please.” I waited with anticipation. I remembered our last meeting with clarity. The wild red-haired gypsy had warned me of many changes in my life and that I would be taking some dark paths for a while but that I would fare well and come back into the light eventually. Maybe this was that moment she meant. At that very thought the sun broke through the trees and a ray shone directly on my face, warming me to the core of my being. I smile. Yes, this must be Zaryana.

The curtain-door parted and I was greeted with a sudden hug and laugh. “It is YOU!” she cried out.

I nodded and found myself nearly in tears. “Yes, it is I and I am so happy to see you again!”

She motioned me inside and offered me a cup of her famous tea. “Drink up,” she whispered. “I am sure your tea leaves will be very interesting this time.”

I felt the steam caress my face as I raised the cup to my lips. I had a feeling “interesting” was putting it mildly, whatever was out in front of me now. But I knew for sure this time I welcomed it and had no fears. I had come back to a place where art and writing and dance were to be a part of my life again and I was happy.