It was a warm summer day. Smell of levand nectar brought by wind into my room. Clear blue sky and chirping birds. And the silence of spacious house-like cage. I already grew to this quitness and found peace in it, but my young soul craved to come back to the place where it was a day before – the Forest of Giants. So I set myself off into the woods.
Down from steep and rocky road, through tall grass full of bugs and lizards, across the narrow streamy river filled with newborn fish a path reveals into my magical realm. On my way I notice an abandoned house with some apple trees which turned wild without a man’s hand. I like to think what happened to the people living here: ‘Did they die out of old age? Or perhaps were banished into Sibir?’.  I extend my left arm. I like to feel grass brushing against my fingers as I walk. I spy a strange thing. A lizard pierced with a stick and put on a stone. From a recently watched series I remember that some bird species do so. I hope that it’s just nature and not a human’s work.
A fresh smell of woods fills my nostrils. I hungrily inhale and linger for a moment. I am here in the Forest of Giants. A strange warm feeling hugs me like a coat. I look up and instead of trees I see giants protecting sacred land of nature. Almost like I can feel my baltic ancestors living in them. I reach a road which leads into unknown. I step forward to explore.

In first crossroad I turn to right. I find short grass, sparse population of pine trees and a camping site. Immediately before my eyes a vision of tents and gleaming fire appears. Cracking burning wood echoes my mind. In addition of immense amount of buzzing mosquitos lurking around to suck some blood. Neverthless, I wish to be here with my friends someday. I turn back to check the left path. It leads me into area of thin and young birch trees filled with a smell of wild strawberries. I bend down and savour nature’s fruits. They taste like childhood – sweet and sour. Sun gently beams through light green leaves. But I cannot stay here for long. The sun will soon set down and there is one more road to check. I head back. The sound of branches cracking as I step. A strange view I see. A field covered in moss and as only tops of trees emerges from the green. I find a long stick and poke the ground. The ground swallows my branch as gruesome predator. This field is a swamp! A massive natural trap! Amazing. If a medieval crusader ever drowned in here, his body would still be in perfect condition. Trees around seem old. I wonder what kind of tales Giants has to offer for this vile trap of the forest.
The sun was setting down and dusk began to fall. I had to leave the woods and go back ‘home’. But I wasn’t sad for that as I’ve learned so much. Before I left I placed my hand on a tree which three men could only hug and quietly whispered: ‘I’ll be back my dear Giants.’