Places we Live In

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

What's important

A colleague sent me this, sorry for the bad translation- I'm tired.

An Indian American walked with his friend in downtown New York. It was noon and the streets were crowded. Speeding cars and taxis, sirens near or far, all these deafening city sounds. Suddenly the Indian said:
- I heard a cricket.
- You cannot hear a cricket in all this uproar! his friend answered.
- I'm sure I heard a cricket! the Indian insisted.
- That's crazy! the friend said.

The Indian listened carefully for a moment then went upstreet to an area with some trees. He looked around, under the branches and found the little cricket. His friend was amazed.

- It's incredible! You must have a superhuman hearing!
- No, said the Indian. My ears are different from yours. It depends on what you listen to.
- But you just can't hear a cricket in this noise! continued his friend.
- Depends on what is important to you, was the answer. Let me show you.

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some coins that he discretely dropped on the pavement. Then, with all the deafening noise of the city, everyone within a radius of five meters turned their heads and look around to check if the money was theirs.

- See what I mean? the Indian continued. It all depends on what is important to you.

Sunday, 7 November 2010

El Castañar

This is an ancient forest in El Tiemblo. All kind of nut trees grow together with berry bushes. There are also fruit trees, osme of them have become wild. Romans are said to have planted many of these trees in order to ensure nutrition for legions moving from one place to another.
It is always a real pleasure to walk among the trees and listen to the tales you have heard in your childhood and feel the same fears and joys.
Forests dwell in us launching energy, feeding us with their strength from the beginning of the times.

Thursday, 4 November 2010

Colours here

Getting closer to the school this morning I couldn't avoid catching the cool rays and the colours.

This strange combination of fallen leaves and green flowered bush made me think about the great variety of life.

The wall in this yard has got a red teint, nevertheless green spots try to survive.

One of the oldest churches in Ávila, surrounded by golden trees keeps an eye over urban activities. Little by little, step by step winter light is wrapping us. It is already dark at 6:30. An invitation to go back home.

Wednesday, 3 November 2010

A teacher

An old writer is coming tomorrow to our school to present his newest book, and it's a special moment for me because he was my Literature teacher in the 11th grade. By then, I sort of considered being a Math teacher already, but that year I only went to literature contests, due to him. Believe it or not, I went as far as the national phase and even got a prize there. But it was all due to the classes he taught- the the most captivating ones I was ever in. I was lucky to have lots of good teachers, but thinking back, he had this real way of guiding us without us knowing, of facilitating our own travel to our own knowledge.
Anyway, he's in his eighties and he certainly does not remember me after 30 years, but I expect it will be a very emotional moment for me.