Saltar para: Posts [1], Pesquisa e Arquivos [2]




por talesforlove, em 24.08.09

Flowers of my garden - Inspiration to tales :)

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)


por talesforlove, em 24.08.09

Fire in the woods

I live in POrtugal and know very well the drama of the fires in the Summer.

Nevertheless, I would say the same if I was living in Greece, Sapin, California or

Australia... Yesterday, I saw a TV show about the moon research. Today, I wonder

if we are too worried about the desolation of that planet and forget this fire threat.

We should research ways to put an end on it!

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)


por talesforlove, em 18.08.09

The Sacred Ant - Part 2

 

Not too far away there was Uncle Francisco, with its cart that very slowly, took an enormous burden of corn and hay, so heavy that the wheels shrieked and it was possible to see olives oil dripping, as if the olives were squeezed, to lubricate it. He heard and said loudly: — My dearest son! You should have told me! I'm going to pick up the hunting-gun! — A few moments after there was a huge sound that was heard all over the mountain. After that a shriek of agony, very sharp and loud… it wasn’t heard much longer. I also felt that the animal was conscious of the tragedy of the end of his life. Nevertheless, this not assumed feeling was followed by a big party. Filipe got down from the tree and helped us bring the enormous pig… Of course several men were needed. In the next day, he was singed and suspended by the paws, with his head down, at my uncle's wine cellar. The meat was distributed by everyone.
The disappearance of a child was not very frequent, in fact, until that day there wasn't any, as far as I remember. No, I'm not referring to that our adventure running from the wild boar… but to the disappearance of little Maria, just two days after. In high Summer, August, when the women that made the harvest were full days working cutting cornfields. Several of them used to take with them their children and but sometimes they would get distracted, leaving the kids free to play and use their imagination. Little Maria was also with her mother, but one day she disappeared and nobody knew to where she might have gone. It was all very unexpected, solitary and silent. Not even the wind seemed to "whisper" in between the valleys and the undulation of the corn-fields wasn't bringing news or could calm down the suffering of that mother. She was suffering as if someone had cut off one part of her body, she felt suffocated just like if it had really happened. It was like she had lost all her body and all that was left behind was a prison named absence.
I was helping and, above all, observing the works at the house of my Uncle Francisco. He and the stonemason were seriously committed in the mix of clay and stones that they would carry to the second floor, using buckets, one in each arm. They impressed me because, even with all that hard work, they still had the clear-sightedness to carefully save any living ant from the sand that would have the misfortune to appear there...
— One more worker of God I have to save! — Said my wise Uncle. My astonishment for them was growing. I used to compare them to any worker of the fields: they collect the seeds and transport them, as the women reapers; they take pieces of grass like the peasants, the wood of the forest and, if necessary, hunt as the hunter.
One particular question was frightening my mind: — And do they think like us? ­— The astonishment and the magic that only a child can feel, I also felt. That was like an anticipated revelation that made me want to believe that it was not a sign of madness.
— Help! — We heard and went to the window trying to understand what was going on. 
— Little Maria disappeared! — Late morning groups of people were gathered and went to the surroundings of the village, to look for that little girl. The valley where she disappeared, permitted an easy access to any part of the region, even for a small child, so everyone started to look for her near the river and also in the forest… at the corn fields, but without success. Few were those that had a proper lunch. Children were the privileged ones. But, despite that, right after lunch they continued to look for Maria. But nothing. The strong heat of the Summer, not even at night disappeared. The sound of the orchestra of crickets gave a sense of calm that was not enough to make disappear the desperation of our search. It seemed that to mother nature, that situation was indifferent. Despite that, my bare feet walked until exhaustion… and, finally, I fell asleep… on my bed made with a mattress of straw. But not even in my dreams I gave up seeking her… I was a mad man that searched without clues: just using his instinct.
In the meantime, one voice: — I'm here… here… help me… Mother! Mother!... — And a cry, that I felt, was confusing itself with mine.
And I answered: — I'm going... I'm arriving… I love you very much. — I said that aloud and woke up frightened. My heart was beating as the one of a little bird between the hands of a man. But I rose up immediately, not even washed myself, not even dressed, because I still was with the clothes of the day before. I searched for my mother. She wasn't anywhere. I searched my father. He was also absent. I gave a look through the kitchen window and I saw no one. Then I left home running to João's house. I felt hope because I realized everyone was still searching her… It was that! At least I wasn't hearing crying of consummated agony.
 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)


Mais sobre mim

foto do autor



Arquivo

  1. 2018
  2. JAN
  3. FEV
  4. MAR
  5. ABR
  6. MAI
  7. JUN
  8. JUL
  9. AGO
  10. SET
  11. OUT
  12. NOV
  13. DEZ
  14. 2017
  15. JAN
  16. FEV
  17. MAR
  18. ABR
  19. MAI
  20. JUN
  21. JUL
  22. AGO
  23. SET
  24. OUT
  25. NOV
  26. DEZ
  27. 2016
  28. JAN
  29. FEV
  30. MAR
  31. ABR
  32. MAI
  33. JUN
  34. JUL
  35. AGO
  36. SET
  37. OUT
  38. NOV
  39. DEZ
  40. 2015
  41. JAN
  42. FEV
  43. MAR
  44. ABR
  45. MAI
  46. JUN
  47. JUL
  48. AGO
  49. SET
  50. OUT
  51. NOV
  52. DEZ
  53. 2014
  54. JAN
  55. FEV
  56. MAR
  57. ABR
  58. MAI
  59. JUN
  60. JUL
  61. AGO
  62. SET
  63. OUT
  64. NOV
  65. DEZ
  66. 2013
  67. JAN
  68. FEV
  69. MAR
  70. ABR
  71. MAI
  72. JUN
  73. JUL
  74. AGO
  75. SET
  76. OUT
  77. NOV
  78. DEZ
  79. 2012
  80. JAN
  81. FEV
  82. MAR
  83. ABR
  84. MAI
  85. JUN
  86. JUL
  87. AGO
  88. SET
  89. OUT
  90. NOV
  91. DEZ
  92. 2011
  93. JAN
  94. FEV
  95. MAR
  96. ABR
  97. MAI
  98. JUN
  99. JUL
  100. AGO
  101. SET
  102. OUT
  103. NOV
  104. DEZ
  105. 2010
  106. JAN
  107. FEV
  108. MAR
  109. ABR
  110. MAI
  111. JUN
  112. JUL
  113. AGO
  114. SET
  115. OUT
  116. NOV
  117. DEZ
  118. 2009
  119. JAN
  120. FEV
  121. MAR
  122. ABR
  123. MAI
  124. JUN
  125. JUL
  126. AGO
  127. SET
  128. OUT
  129. NOV
  130. DEZ

Promotion of Blogs - One



subscrever feeds


search!