Mists drifting among the cottages, a barn, a hearth, water from the stream, bread. And then again: hay in the barn, pitchforks in the field, potatoes and sour milk. The even rhythm of nature and the rhythm of human work and human life inscribed in it. A life in common. As in Kraszewski's poem: "There was a grandfather and a grandmother, both very old" Only the punch line is different: "My life is good. I don’t want a different one”. A warm, intimate portrait of two old people.

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