This my new friend adores to visit cemetaries. As good friend whenever I can I follow it in the week ends. I learned to less find information in the waited places. The grave of the Lenore family Branches, the same of the Street Consuelo Martino Lenore Branches, there downtown. The Appeared Building Jose Lenore Branches where it is the Trade association. The family must be old, to judge for the date of the death of the patriarch who dates of period of foundation of the city. E, for the amount of Japanese, Portuguese, Spanish and Italian last names in this cemetary I deduce that I am in a city of pioneers.
Of Akamura, the Bertocelli, of Axes the Oaks, all seem to have joined a place alone its of the sky underneath that seems to protect to all we. With certainty, all had had a life to count, to cry, to love and if to cheer. Made all it of choices, pains, loves, flavors and odors. E, of this script never I heard to say that nobody left living creature. That place that it had visited provoked in me an admiration feeling and respect, of estranhamento and surprise of the type that we have when in them we come across when capsizing the esquina. That esquina of every day, always equal e, suddenly, without nor more less, so different.
I started to repair in curves, colors, nuances, cheiros that it had not perceived until then. Something similar happens when we receive the relatives or friends, in that holiday. E, we are led, for the fiftieth time, to visit museum, the same zoological the same, same beach, the same park. E, without nothing of extraordinary it happens you is taken by an incredible atmosphere of surprise and close gratefulness. Lead for the dexterity and the rapidity of a stranger you are presented to one another place. For more specific information, check out BP.