Mindful Voices of Europe: mind-expanding outdoors moments

Lativa: Soul Talks with the Baltic Sea

Sometimes, a strange feeling forms deep inside of you. You actually cannot describe it in words, you just know that something in your life is going to change. What do you do in such moments? Do you bury your emotions and try to ignore them? Do you meet your friends, or go partying so hard that you can barely hear your thoughts? Do you eat the entire contents of your fridge?

There is only one thing that I do. I take my reliable bike for a ride. Today my route goes through the town, and while I am riding my bike, I can feel the strong smell of lilac - it is spring, and the town is filled with flowers. After six kilometres I cross the swing bridge, which was designed afterthe drawings of French engineer Alexandre Gustave Eiffel, and is one of the oldest bridges in Latvia, built in 1906. And now I am in Karosta - the part of the town that still retains a strong Soviet atmosphere. Even though it's already been twenty-seven years since Latvia regained its independence from the Soviet Union, it will most likely take some more time until I don't feel like I have travelled back in time to this grim period of Latvian history.

I go further now, and soon I reach the pine forest, which grows right next to the Baltic Sea. The paths in the forest are narrow and sandy, and I struggle a bit to get to my destination - the Northern Forts. These forts were built at the end of the 19th century to provide protection to Liepāja's naval base in case of enemy attack. The official order to start building the forts was given by the Russian Tsar as Latvia was at that time still a part of the Russian Empire. However, these forts have never been used for military purposes, and nowadays they are slowly but persistently collapsing into the Baltic Sea. Actually, I feel like I am in a rock fold here. It isstrange to me that in Latvia there are no rock quarries as they rather suit the reserved Latvian mentality.

Every time I come here, the forts look different. The fort ruins are crumbling, and their fragments are being washed into the Baltic Sea, while the sea is changing colours like a chameleon right in front of my eyes - it is amazing how extensive and rich in colour nature is.

Today is a cold and windy spring day; the wind blows from the north-west, which is the dominant wind here, on the west coast of Latvia. It blows the waves right to the shore. Iam sitting here, on the white sand, letting it flow through my fingers. My eyes are closed, I feel the strong wind playing in my hair, and my memories bring me back to my childhood.Usually, in autumn, the same strong north-west wind brings little amber pieces to the shore. As a child, I spent so much time on the coast with my family trying to find these littlepieces of sunlight between the dark, smelly algae. Seagulls were flying around us, and their voices seemed like screams to me. Although the water in the Baltic Sea is not salty, I feltthen as if the air and wind were full of salt. I found the amber pieces rarely, but my parents brought home handfuls of shiny, golden amber. Sometimes, we even got so lucky as to find apiece of amber that was significantly bigger than the rest, and some of these larger pieces even had an insect from prehistoric times inside - like a spider or a fly. I have heard that in the near future, it will become much harder to find amber washed up on the shores of the Baltic Sea. Maybe someday it will have the value of gold, as it did many centuries ago.I open my eyes to see how the waves are beating against the fort ruins. Unstoppable and strong, the sea is full of spite. And just like these old, useless fort ruins are falling into the Baltic Sea, so are my doubts and deepest fears collapsing in front of the same sea; at the same time, I feel likethe sea is washing up a smile on my face like it washes amber on the shore.