Sometimes it's amazing how our mind is subject to the disturbing flash. Maybe just made up stories from our subconscious, but it probably happened.
And that's why looking out the window of that old restaurant in the mountains, looking at his "historical" I terrace we met older people who play card games, old hunters sipping hot soup or young couples that there are no clubs or local fantamitici now found themselves under those screws look in his eyes.
I also see ... happiness
The ripening grapes, persimmons that secular bears fruit every year, regularly collected by gnarled hands.
Today those khakis stay on the tree. They will fall and rot. Just like today.
we no longer feel so happy with a mediocre soup, or so gratified by an evening in a place that now seems decidedly not cool.
We can still fully enjoy a loaf of bread with salami? A Saint Lucia as the mandarins do not get it. And children who came with a pacifier hanging from the trees of sugar while the mothers gathered in the garden now can not eat too many sweets, they would become obesi.Quei child born in the stables, because the hospital was too far away, today can not go above 1000 meters before a certain age. It would do him harm.
What is the mountain, what are the roasted chestnuts in the pan "with busi" in the evening, with all Ch around the fire, which more than to eat served to warm the hands? Where it all ends, what is it that so inexorably engulfs the past? And the cards, the briscolone, and give some food to the hunters passing through? Where am I?
But the terrace is empty ... we are just kids, kids evil ripping the leaves to the poor lives.
View photos: faces tough series, the family photos is a rare opportunity. Who knows how far will have done, Mr. Photographer. Boys in two colors with baskets on their shoulders. Hay and fatigue. Hay and simplicity. Hay and a smile, then can go play with their friends.
Hay and happiness ...
And that's why looking out the window of that old restaurant in the mountains, looking at his "historical" I terrace we met older people who play card games, old hunters sipping hot soup or young couples that there are no clubs or local fantamitici now found themselves under those screws look in his eyes.
I also see ... happiness
The ripening grapes, persimmons that secular bears fruit every year, regularly collected by gnarled hands.
Today those khakis stay on the tree. They will fall and rot. Just like today.
we no longer feel so happy with a mediocre soup, or so gratified by an evening in a place that now seems decidedly not cool.
We can still fully enjoy a loaf of bread with salami? A Saint Lucia as the mandarins do not get it. And children who came with a pacifier hanging from the trees of sugar while the mothers gathered in the garden now can not eat too many sweets, they would become obesi.Quei child born in the stables, because the hospital was too far away, today can not go above 1000 meters before a certain age. It would do him harm.
What is the mountain, what are the roasted chestnuts in the pan "with busi" in the evening, with all Ch around the fire, which more than to eat served to warm the hands? Where it all ends, what is it that so inexorably engulfs the past? And the cards, the briscolone, and give some food to the hunters passing through? Where am I?
But the terrace is empty ... we are just kids, kids evil ripping the leaves to the poor lives.
View photos: faces tough series, the family photos is a rare opportunity. Who knows how far will have done, Mr. Photographer. Boys in two colors with baskets on their shoulders. Hay and fatigue. Hay and simplicity. Hay and a smile, then can go play with their friends.
Hay and happiness ...
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