Blue Skies and Cold Air
The seasons are shifting here in northern Bosnia. The mornings have that crisp bite that tells you autumn has properly settled in. Yet the skies stay defiantly blue, almost glowing above the village. It’s the kind of weather that makes a simple walk around the block feel like a small adventure. And honestly, every time I step outside on a day like this, I find myself quietly grateful I’m not back in the UK under its familiar blanket of grey drizzle.
Smoke on the Breeze
Halfway along the lane, a thin column of smoke drifted from a neighbour’s little outbuilding. Here, that can only mean one thing: meat being smoked the traditional way. It’s a sight I rarely seem to catch. I’m always either away, busy, or simply too late. But today, there it was. A quiet reminder that so much of Bosnia’s heritage isn’t locked in museums; it’s lived, tended, and carried forward in people’s own backyards.
Cowbells and Mountain Wisdom
If you heard a soft bell during our walk, it wasn’t a stray cow joining us. That gentle clinking came from Tamara’s backpack, a mountain habit designed to keep predators at a distance. Wolves still roam the high forests, bears wander the ridges, and wild dogs can appear out of nowhere. The bell simply lets them know we’re passing through. A small sound with a practical purpose, shaped by the geography of this place.
Tea, Sunlight, and the Simple Moments
By the time we looped home, the sun had sunk low and fierce, the way it does in October and November, that sharp, blinding autumn glare you can never quite escape. And as always after a good walk, the day called for a cup of English tea. Two sugars. A splodge of milk.
Just a simple moment. But one that anchors you, reminds you where you are, and why these small rituals matter.
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