A daily sound of my cell I recalls that just of start a day more, some rays reach to touch the window, opening it window leave pass them while van accompanied of an air coastal, take also of evict to one’s tiny drunks of blood that flying clumsy after so long night taking. It is tomorrow and the casual foreign triad of the fourth number 112 comprised of Italy, Finland and Chile will returning through the streets of Funchal the goals and dreams that we have proposed in this trip.
Would in my backpack? ones binoculars, a small notebook and pencils, 1.5 lt water in a bottle that is makes call “Atlantida”; an Apple and two sandwiches of cheese and tomato, usually my bread not changes of ingredients, my love by the animals I has made leave certain pleasures of type carnivorous, which here tend to eat much, but always is can prepare something alternative.
Are exactly them 08:10 and remain located in the stop of a road that crosses the part more ancient of the city aboard the auto, that next to my companions of work, us take by the inside of the island towards them large forests that make up the heart of Madeira.
Narrow roads that granted them rolling crusts, different typologies of vegetation surrounded our vision and on them summits… birds that flew so high that almost played them clouds, all this ritual not was rather than the noble work of investigate the complex and surprise world of the nature and its avifauna, dreaming with that someday each one of us as humans achieve be more empathetic and sensitive with our environment.
Becomes the time of a small pause to eat something fast before continue with the monitoring of birds. Keep some bags of paper and plastic of our food since so them use to place them different feathers that collect in the road and thus also take advantage of recycle our waste.
In full afternoon, a little exhausted of both walking but happy by have collected new information and with her work in the office of SPEA. Already are them 9 of the night and as all those days, road a little hungry until the recognized Supermarket “Pingo Doce” and its fantastic happy hour in the area of food. While I wait in line I see in it to my friends that also are waiting for a cheap dinner. The table is served and in she a mixture cultural that is transformed in a pleasant conversation on what have made, what has happened today and what happened the day of tomorrow. Walking to my temporary home, but not by that less dear, return to my warm room and while accompany my night lying in the bed with some book it abandonment by ones moments for laugh of them things of the life with my friends in a small corner of an island called Madeira.