Squirrel

It was Sunday. My wife, my son and me we visited my parents in «the farm of the Angel». The house is a very nice one, modern and with good furniture. My father adapted the old house and built a modern one. This happened when I married my wife and lived in her house in Oporto city. The farm house has a yard in the façade and was there we lunched in the shade of a pine tree.

I was, ever since, seven years out of the farm and living in Oporto city with my wife but my feelings about the farm were the same when I lived there. I believe the spirit of God lives there in the fields at least a little part of «IT». It’s a quiet place. In Oporto city, one day, I thought/fancied to set a verse in a glazed tile in the gate of my farm in Portuguese language. It would be in this manner:

«The Spirit of God wanders in this place. So, I love it.»

«O Espírito de Deus vagueia nesta quinta. Por isso a amo.»

I must say I don’t like Oporto city. I don’t like any city. I like my farm very much. Very, very, very much. The city, for me, it is street, road, road, street, street, road and nothing more!! I am a fish out of water. My feelings about my farm are of a permanent longing!! My parents they also are, for me, a permanent longing because they, now, live far away of me!

One day I fancy to live in my farm with a pension.

So, in this Sunday, I strolled to see the fields and when I was near the dam of my farm I saw a squirrel, a wild squirrel, an Iberian squirrel. Quickly I was with my camera and the squirrel was my film and photographical actor!!