Cheat Messed Up Emerald

How right carries with it últimamamente link has called this blogg Enrique García Máiquez, " calmer than fast." Certainly , my words have ponded as do honor to the title this space, but I rejoice because serenity is what has allowed me to return and above all, re-read yours, so quick and enlightening as always. Finally, after a month of vertigo and accelerated work has come peace and quiet, I've found, not through the achievement of my thesis poor, but in the joy of a few days in the mountains, in the best company, refugee in the beautiful surroundings of Ordesa and Monte Perdido . To go back and remember the strange feeling of harmony and happiness, I needed a reunion with the thickets and sources of clear water from the classics. And I turned my eyes to life rested Fray Luis de León :

[...] From the mountain on the slope,

planted by my hand, I have a garden,

that spring,

of beautiful flower shed,

hope and shows the true fruit;

and as greedy

to see the airy summit

a pure fountain running until rushes;

and then quiet,

the way through the trees twisting,

the floor, past

wearing vegetable

and various flowers will [...]

spreading

("Song of the solitary life")

And I admired the romantic rapport between nature and HD Thoreau, who recognized the benefactor eternal source of life in Field:

"There can be no truly black melancholy to living in the midst of nature and calm his senses. Never was storm wind was not music for a innocent and healthy ear. Nothing is able to plunge into a vulgar sadness loyal and straightforward. While joy the friendship of the seasons I think that nothing can make life a burden to me. The gentle rain which waters my beans and field keeps me at home today, there is ennui and melancholy, but a blessing for me [...]"

( Life in the Woods)

Now I look at photographs taken pity I can not pick up the sound of the river, or the bubbling of the cascade, or silence, nor the menacing roar of that mighty cow protecting their grass. Nor can regain me pleasure I felt tired after a long trip, the fresh face and the serenity, the glory of the warm bath, followed by dinner, the conversation and wine ..., that fatigue is so different from that to an afternoon of shopping or a busy day of sedentary work But ... must return to step on the road, go over the agenda and meet new deadlines forget the green and silver winding among the rocks, because as our parents warned us, the reality is this ... and I wonder: Were not really those stones, wood, that toast breakfast, the bell tower, the mare splashing with mud puddles, rain in the evening wiping our feet on a shady path, the storm illuminating black roofs, the play of shadows and lights in the beech forest, trout from the river greeted the outspread wings of the dove appeared in an instant, the clear sky, the serene happiness Shared?