Love the ground

I didn't like the hunting and the fishing, but I cannot talk about people who have loved their childhood and youth anchored in their feeling towards parents, family and special friends of those times that they will remind forever.

They love hunting and fishing because they are also another part of country's spirit. I haven't lived their childhood games, their diet that, in those times, had limits that we cannot know today, althought, step by step, we're knowing in these fiddle periods where we must pay the prize the global world of the economy power.

I've the childhood image of a small stream, where my father and my fish were going fishing crayfish, those spanish crayfish, later, disappeared. Yesterday, I heart the last social action of a friends, was the same: I love every country that I'm knowing but these persons are moored to their grounds lived, every second when they sang, hide from parents, or looked for food or an special food.

These bit period, the last summer was his confirmation of his marriage with those grounds, wind, and sounds that he had never forgotten.

Travelling around the world, but we're quiet with these persons, they have all voices, sounds, smells of theirs lands; when you touch their hands, you feel all furrows of their lives worked. Then, they looked at a hidden horizon, in the middle of their hard lives.

We growed with their dances in their village's places