Some snaps of Nitra, Slovakia -- my home town and the memories these photos solicit.

 

St. Michael the Archangel Church, Nitra (11th Century). Looks very Celtic to me. Not sure all of those soon-to-be potato eaters left in the 8th Century :-)



The Nitra River which flows into the Danube. Since 1968 our house keys lay in the river mud somewhere. Plop. Goodbye. I have fond memories of fishing with my father along these banks. To him, after 11 years in a concentrak, it was freedom. To a curious 4 year old, it was outer space.

Overlooking the Nitra valley, it is easy to imagine a horse mounted Tartar in full gallop. This photo was taken by a pigeon.

Nitra hosts a air glider competition. My grand uncle died in an air reconnaissance mission in WW2 against most of your fathers and grand fathers. Here we sit with a Red Rose tea between us. You won :-)

A grand perspective. The mount on the far right is Zobor where Daddy grew up playing with duddy shells dropped by returning Lancaster and B-17 bombers. He spent his youth a carefree spirit, running through winter, and skiing in the vineyards. Reverse that.

Amazing how silver halide photos and thier digital equivalents can trigger distant memories.

We are all children of the great war.

 

pax

Anton