northwest wind blows peeling the outer leaves and dragging the gray clouds that water the parched earth of the Linear Park, while the timid tit singing can be heard in the eerie silence of the engines. Dancing skeletons of bare trees, while the firecrackers scared the dream of those early-morning nap pending the conclusion of the nightly ritual of celebrating the last day.
A lonely old woman walks slowly down the sidewalk, fanning the memories, like grass Maroon to the winter arrives. Some young immigrants seek their future in garbage cans. Family Discussions reached its peak in front of the TV trying to realize the clothes they wear on a special night. Some hundreds of people in distant conflicts that dot the planet, followed by the incredible feeling to be produced sporty driving that the penultimate model multinational just reset your template to keep the profit curve. Depressed hearts increase as much as scented bodies.
Creating a gloomy landscape of reflected light, human brotherhood is expressed in thousands of SMS and e-mails that disguise selfishness by having more necessary. The good intentions for the future are raised on this unbalanced desire. We all want happiness for 10 seconds.
choricero A string of Santas hanging from some windows, and the rooms a warm Christmas tree lights up a nativity scene made in china. In this time of Christmas spending amid the economic crisis (more for some than others) and with 29 recognized wars on this planet (ISO), I find it difficult to capture the simple beauty of this humble city park.
But beyond our human history, the morning light still staining liquid and flowing waters of the lake.
Lake sunsets that grant him a sea of \u200b\u200blights horizon
and shadows at night take the shine of its watery urban reflections.
the foggy blur their profiles mists
and covers, like white sheet, ice and snow.
In my walk through the cold autumnal
discover a flock of finches male seeking a livelihood in their migration celibate.
And the steppe hoopoe, with its beak still muddy after chase in damp earth.
I also bump into who mocks my "trot mess" to burn fat, while he is ridden by his best friend bound, without being reflected at any time. So we are.
persist in my efforts, and climb the "mountain valley, from the hills and watch this little island plant is Palomeras Linear Park,
having just prune - maul in their low branches,
now that lichens are full of joy wet the bark of trees.
the end I'm back-to rest my troubled mind that never stops jumping, with her ass on land and awareness of breathing, trying to digest this reality that I live.
Health and friendship from the Linear Park.
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