Remembering old places...

I think that each of us have that place deep inside of our memories that awake in our souls lots of good memories. One of mine is my grandparents village where I used to go each summer and winter when I was young. I always loved the fresh air and the atmosphere, the champaign and hills, animals and trees that I found there.
https://steemitimages.com/DQmVW6MUVic5JQQHb5oTy7qoTr8bZ9PQWSA2vx4eAnEuoy4/05.jpg

„There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourselve have altered.”(Nelson Mandela)

I regret that in the past summer I didn`t manage to visit my grandparents and when I put my first step back there I remembered every memory that I have there, in that unchanged place and I realized that I am not the same anymore. We are trapped in a permanent circle of change from whitch we can note escape.

But if we are not the same anymore, what then?

What remains to us if we are totally different?

https://steemitimages.com/DQmStrh9n3tnWA6aFvqDo29efx3DuVPHh1kbz64LpkdJsf2/shutterstock_576932674-1000x657.jpg Memories are the only thing left and there is nothing more satisfying that going back in time to old times and look at them with pleasure. That is what I done there, sitting on the same sofa and looking at the same hill like I done years back.