Felix said he is fortunate to live in fifteen kilometers of wilderness, which is to say that we are fortunate to live half an hour from home. The body we have, and therefore we have the mind, has been surrounded by cliffs, caves, forests, streams, bouquet of thyme and rosemary yelling all kinds of birds, sounds of thousands of winds at different times of the day, lights that mark the time of day, chills, stifling heat, humidity and rainfall that point seasons and the cycles of life. Not even two hundred years ago we have start all this (our habitat) and confused, Malden, orphans do not know exactly why, because most do not know that Homo sapiens miss home, so never have been fully aware of where their home. Which have been longing for nature and do not know that the longing, living amid a growing worry that the push to want more, more power, get more. Looking and looking for happiness are only fifteen kilometers home (at least those who live in Terrassa) and bent to be confused with material success in no way accept it empty.
The post today talking about a walk of five kilometers in the middle of a land that has made us who we are breastfed, which ; aviciat us who loved us and offered to host our stuff, once our cycle, so you can become part of other living beings to continue the only history that survives: the the cosmos.
of the Oak wage, which is already dead, there is a path that starts and ends tar silicate, and we lifted up the barn in sight of all the year to the west, Montserrat. Narrow paths ran under the red cliffs of conglomerate Hill of Pola. Niell. Balmes. Codines. The stone falls from the walls; gratada by the sculptor of the wind. Brandished the heads of oak, a green GEMAT the middle of the dark evergreen oaks. The goddess that fox out to receive the source of Pola. The climb from thyme to Eat in the village, passing through the Oak winds.
What guy, Vila this, for several centuries.
imagine his days, amid the mountains, no roads or cars, no television, no telephone, no electric lighting. Days marked by the light of the sun, stuck on the terraces that gave the food to heat the home and the body of beasts.
family lunch four times a year; killed when the bonnet came because some sponsors and some more distant neighbor. Fred and bandits, thieves and always with taxes and the cross.
What guys, the village, a bittersweet life at home, but amid the cruelty of Homo sapiens ever.
What guy, Vila this, for several centuries.
imagine his days, amid the mountains, no roads or cars, no television, no telephone, no electric lighting. Days marked by the light of the sun, stuck on the terraces that gave the food to heat the home and the body of beasts.
family lunch four times a year; killed when the bonnet came because some sponsors and some more distant neighbor. Fred and bandits, thieves and always with taxes and the cross.
What guys, the village, a bittersweet life at home, but amid the cruelty of Homo sapiens ever.
Of the town, the shrine of Mata Montcau that the swells, the foreign fir down to the Col d'Estenalles, and we go in again.
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