Sunday, January 29, 2012

Half a dozen of hills. [#34 - Lord of the Hill]


There are half a dozen of hills surrounding the Valley of the Starlings. Farmers do jokes about it and call them "the brown beasts" that always sleep and never are in silence. As a child I did not understand this way of calling the low-lands and their irrational superstitions. I can not understand how a landscape, whatever it is, sleeps forever and never shuts up.
Perhaps it is a mountain that can talk!? Oh! green forest that loves the mystery and joyful questions! 

I was very young, I guess. 

One time in a long sultry summer without breezes or rain, I remember walking in trail between the lovely creek and the very ancient castle's walls. It was always a opportunity to read my thoughts to myself. These anxious thoughts as old as a beautiful book, that still today I have and do not stop bothering me... I say discomfort because just I want a little silence.

A deep rustle came in front of us, and made the river totally dry, as dry as it can be in my memory today;  soulless body of sand and shells, but fortunately for a short time. My river! Oh that scary! After the first event, a folia of very fast harmonies was heared through every corner of the valley. Tens of blackbirds flew up away grinning and grinning; all of them flew up beyond their dark homes and they sang with fun: It is not silent! They are not in silence! Their dreams are like attractive colourful missals, glorious and ceremonial as well distressing. These are the low-hills, a landscape with breath and rhyme, they might have souls! They are beasts although they sleep talking!

I was very young, I guess.
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A Golden Bough