We were standing beneath the street ca AIA, going to the casino until the old road that descends sh

We were standing beneath the street ca AIA, going to the casino until the old road that descends sharply Sa Riera. The long walk was with the hope and . There were no houses up and down the quiet natural setting that taught me to recognize the singing of magpies, rabbit holes, rub the leaves to dry piles of ants, the gentle delfi horoskopas rocking of bent pins The curve that was screeching delfi horoskopas brakes, winds betrayed smell the sea. The few cars that passed not hindered.
Arrived at the rock left the beach, delfi horoskopas panting as if assaltéssim tower of a castle walls, surrounded by sand sunburn. The baskets were leaving delfi horoskopas in its shadow and esteníem our kingdom small enclosed space smaller rocks. There were few people. The stretch of sea that dared get, bellowing and throwing white foam, we covered, delfi horoskopas but we had a lot of colored stones that apilàvem thousand ways, by keeping the red when we had a handful, making us the necklace. Small fish came from different shapes and colors, swam in groups and movements made fun amid the rocks, and occasionally get caught because they knew that we returned to the sea; once we get a pop clueless delfi horoskopas as impressed as moved and clung to our pointy rocks and encrestades that we know much tread the uncut us feet.
All, however, was the big favorite rock; powerful and safe did not move never in all my childhood summers. Encrestada delfi horoskopas bonyeguda and always let me get to the top with a few drips of blood on your hands that lasted nine to catch saltwater. Up there, the vast sea I wanted to drop by throwing all the rage at the foot of the blackened rock. By far, however, it became soft and splendid. The seagulls always called.
Some evenings trampejàvem networks and boats preparing to go to sea to reach the homes of the right that had the lowest full of fishing gear. Enfilàvem the way to a big house, hidden among pine trees, where the rock looked great smallest and largest sea.
The road, with cars up and down. Rows of houses encircling the right, and others scattered to the left until you almost reach the curve continues screeching brakes, where the stream makes a steep gorge not seen the sea.
Towards Their Blacks, who come to roads and paths cut, houses no longer hidden, look up styles that are two buildings half, abandoned, as souls. In winter, too, everything is abandoned.
Biologist, Master of Environment and Spatial Planning, Master in Teaching Secondary. Technical Secretary to the Association of Naturalists Girona. Interested in learning about environmental and social conflicts that occur in our country and do everything possible to solve them.
View all posts by Carol Coll Post navigation Where are the environmentalists? Contest micro ecologists and naturalists: What makes people angry does not do what you will never
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