While listening to the wind sing, he takes you along that path where the dust shows a spirited step of that heel in the party, that lit one that cheers the step, because the firmament that sighs in full light, where the counters eyes accompany the tune, tender plain that hurries the step, yes, they are that he carries on his back the walker.
That old man, grandfather who stops you rocking in his chair, sits you on his legs to tell that tale of a thousand and one days, that which happens every day, it is not the same is another story in each passing through his silence, a curious glance appears at the bottom of those dreams those that run between each song of the stones, they are the choir that accompanies the tune, the one that from the first step they sing to you, the fairies join to the concert to the same rhythm that blooms, blooms in the heart that becomes a child when it watches the grandmother narrate her gray hairs.
The Saman naked for days, shows his body full of memories that speak of the youth that passes every day, one more day is another less you have to travel the beauty of that body, body you have to go for this life, life is only if you travel all the beauty, open your life to that beauty that is to enjoy every drop of sigh.
Rocinante appears in the thicket, his neighing way between the letters, since they take the knight's soul to fight the battle of kisses, kisses left by that green between the eyes, which ride on the wind and are celebrated in that land, which throbs spirited like the scrawl left in the letters by that steed, the same as that of an old knight.
The solitude of that immense company makes them take off their hat, sign taught by their ancestors to show that respect, feeling of the estuary being beautiful mother giving birth to each of the dreams, dreams inhabitants of the mind in that infinite instant.
That Sunday I walked through the area that is more flat, I grabbed the path that leads to the towers, when I visit them I will show you photos (that's another story) I like to go looking at every detail so it takes much longer than normal, I observe each kills and the trees because I love to take pictures of small flowers, but besides insects, if it has colorful colors much better, people around these parts are not used to looking at a nature photographer that is what I love to capture, that's why They miss seeing me walk the mountain with my camera, before they even got a little scared, ha ha ha, some do not like to be photographed, so I do not do almost portraits, I do not like to be portrayed, it is something of the People in the area, we are somewhat weird to say something, we are not like others, but most of us like nature, sometimes they can't stand it and they approach me to ask: what are you doing there? When I see myself squatting, taking a picture of a small flower, so small that nobody notices it (those are the ones that fascinate me the most because I can highlight its beauty) there I stop and leave what I am doing and show them the camera, seeing the photos of how you can highlight something so small are surprised and say: rightly, they are beautiful, or something like that, it is a bit what you experience when walking taking photos through these fields of Aragueño.
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Camera : Panasonic lumix DMC-FZ50. Lens: Leica 1:2.8-3.7/7.4-88.8. Location: Villa de Cura.
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