Mosaics
My
parents lived in a basement underground. They had recently moved there
and now showed me their new home, as I came to visit them.
I descended the stairs and stepped in. The basement was cave-like
in its structure and consisted of a long corridor with arching walls.
'You have mosaics here,' I pointed out. 'Yes, they're ancient, dating
from the Roman period,' my mother replied.
The
mosaics were not so easy to find, as they were covered by vine and
ivy. The plants had withered but still blocked the view to the mosaics.
I moved the twigs and dry berries aside and noticed that the design
was mostly ornamental: broken colours that had faded over the years
but still formed interesting shapes. In addition to the abstract figures,
some of the mosaics had descriptive themes as well: birds, animals
and plants. It was all very balanced and elegant.
I
moved along the corridor. There were not so many ornaments at the
end of the room, only tiles and a good layer of dust.
In
the dim light I could detect a hatch on the floor. 'What is this?'
I asked. 'It's for our pet,' my father answered, 'We have a mouse
of our own.' Taking hold of the handle I lifted the cover. 'Is it
really necessary to open that lid?' the mouse said, as it walked out
of its hole. Walking impatiently to and fro it waited for an opportunity
to go back. 'This is no orninary mouse,' I remarked. The animal had
long hair and it was as big as a badger. It was almost impossible
to believe that it was a domestic mouse. I took a position to close
the lid, and the rhodent returned to its den.
I
walked back. The wall looked different now. 'Where did all the vine
disappear?' I asked. 'They were untidy,' my mother replied, 'So I
cut them out. Now the mosaics are much easy to see.' The ornaments
were undoubtedly beautiful, but a part of the atmosphere had disappeared.
The withered twigs had made the place look almost Mediterranean, although
the ambience was not bad even now.
I
was in a hurry so I made haste to go. For a while I lingered on in
the garden. There was snow on the ground, at least ten centimetres
by the side of the wall. One pile of snow looked almost like a cow.
Modelling the snow with my hand I was able to create legs with my
fingers.
As
I walked away I glanced back. The snow flakes on the frozen statue
made the cow glimmer in a fascinating way.
