There are ways that the more they internalize in your retinas, the more you think you're immersed in a magical tale. But are not dreams but only perceptions of your senses so unusual to feel life is not if you do not let yourself be carried away by that person is imprisoned within us and that only the left free for fear of derailing our precarious train to which we climbed steadily but one voice, your truth, you say that is not the train that you deserve ... De Valladolid to Segovia is a hymn to the virgin nature by man without different mood than profiting from the authenticity of the earth. Large fields in this numb season hopes that bloom in spring. The plain is so immense that no boundary lines. Appear abandoned lands, sad and narcotic whose coloring is monochromatic.
However, if patiently open your eyes, feel the beat of the sea of \u200b\u200bpine trees, the tiny people that you speak of living births, cattails flown by storks faithful to their nests, almost spiritual song rattles not stun our ears but called for calm as only the sound of a bell makes you feel.
The chimney smoke smell permeates your memories children, most of those who were lucky kids frolic in the years of our lives. The cold ice cream sticking to the body to awaken your soul finally numbing senseless pain.
Grey, English king of this era, chiseled profiles crossing Segovia castle so vast gray color, always gray, both would have never suspected that a single color were thousands.
The mist rises and falls as white tinsel tangling their tresses that cuts through the mountains and your eyes on clandestine whispers. Sierra white, snow-white peaks that embellishes the greatness of this land to give way to the vortex far from the big city, that is swallowed frogs and princesses.
But until I get to that border, my senses have been reborn, have exercised their right to live, to feel that happiness is made of small silences that emerge humbly as simple nature.
