A path brings us back to the past.
The need for rest, refuge in silence only altered by nature.
We sit down to enjoy everyone and everyone the senses. They are the same
bricks that saw the centuries of changes in this patio. That speak of
who raised them and of the plants that covered them, the days of wind
and water, cold and snow. I hear the drip of water and I smell orange
blossom and boxwood at my step hand for its thickness. The birds, sparrows
today and who knows once, they encourage us in curious talk in the
shade of these glasses leafy
In this quiet place, full of light, color and water, leaf,
fixing our eyes we merged in the backwater of the fountain to a time
of our history. Maybe Irving is waiting to tell us more things.
Dr. Abad.
|
