From Barbadelos to Gonzar.
23kms. 6,5h.
The fog, again and again the fog on the Way.
The fog flooding the villages, the forests.
The fog spraying on your face.
The thick fog through which you can’t see anything.
The remembrance of a yellow arrow was painted on a stone. Was it an arrow? Was it my imagination?
In the middle of the thick forest, the fog and mi in the solitude of who’s frightened to get lost.
You stop, there is nobody.
The heavy silence of the forest.
You facing the solitude in the fog.
The sudden noise of the stick on the earth accelerating.
You stop, there is nothing, but some people have left tracks in the forest, rubbons and messages on a tree.
You feel less lonely.
You realize the gift of living this forest only for yourself, in the middle of the fog.
You take a deep breathe.
No need to hurry your steps. You stop here as much as needed…
… You are not afraid anymore!
The Analogue Project by Oleñka 