Há quase quatro anos mudei-me de Lisboa para o campo inglês e acordei para a natureza. Efeitos (defeitos?) da vida urbana — no momento em que passei a viver sem prédios, nem carros, nem pessoas à volta, comecei, de facto, a ver todas aquelas coisas para as quais, até então, apenas olhava.
E hoje em dia, apesar de ainda gostar muito da cidade, gosto ainda mais de não ter de lá viver durante todo o ano.
(agora na Nova Zelândia a mudança tem sido ainda mais drástica, mas ainda é muito cedo para escrever sobre ela)
Tudo isto para dizer que, de há uns anos para cá, vibro com cada folha, flor e fruto que se atravessem no meu caminho. As viagens de carro deixaram de ser aborrecidas e as estações do ano ganharam um encanto redobrado. Neste recente passeio ao Douro, o Tiago ouviu dezenas de vezes frases como "olha aquele castanheiro carregadíssimo!!", "tantas amoras!!", "já viste aquelas flores??", "olha-me estas bagas cor-de-laranja!!", "Tiago, pára o carro!!"...
E as memórias de infância? Essas também começaram a surgir de onde menos se esperava. Não que a minha infância tenha sido especialmente bucólica (não foi), mas as crianças, mesmo as citadinas, acabam por passar bastante tempo ao ar livre. E agora, quando sinto o cheiro de uma figueira num dia quente, volto a ter 8 anos durante uns segundos.
Ridículo? Enternecedor? Não interessa: a verdade é que agora sinto-me muito mais desperta para o mundo. E cheia de vontade de um dia vir morar para o campo português.
Nearly four years ago I moved from Lisbon to the English countryside and suddenly I was awakened by nature. That was the effect (defect?) of country vs. urban life — when I found myself no longer living in a flat, with no cars and no people around me, I began to notice all those things that I only used to quickly glance at.
Nowadays I still love the city but you know what I love even more? Not having to live there all year round.
(in New Zealand things have changed even more for me but it's still early days to write about it)
All the above to say that nowadays every leaf, flower and fruit gives me a thrill. Road trips are no longer boring and the seasons are more exciting than ever before. During our recent trip to the Douro valley, Tiago was forced to listen to dozens of cries like "look at that sweet chestnut tree laden with fruit!!", "all those blackberries!!", "have you noticed those flowers??", "just take a look at these orange berries!!", "Tiago, stop the car!!"...
Childhood memories have been triggered too. Not that my youth was particularly bucolic (it wasn't), but children — even urban children — do tend to spend a lot of time outdoors. Nowadays when I sense the sweet smell of a fig tree on a very hot day, I feel like I'm 8 years old for a split second.
Ridiculous? Endearing? It doesn't matter, really: truth is, I now feel much more awake. And full of hope to one day put down roots in the Portuguese countryside.
Nearly four years ago I moved from Lisbon to the English countryside and suddenly I was awakened by nature. That was the effect (defect?) of country vs. urban life — when I found myself no longer living in a flat, with no cars and no people around me, I began to notice all those things that I only used to quickly glance at.
Nowadays I still love the city but you know what I love even more? Not having to live there all year round.
(in New Zealand things have changed even more for me but it's still early days to write about it)
All the above to say that nowadays every leaf, flower and fruit gives me a thrill. Road trips are no longer boring and the seasons are more exciting than ever before. During our recent trip to the Douro valley, Tiago was forced to listen to dozens of cries like "look at that sweet chestnut tree laden with fruit!!", "all those blackberries!!", "have you noticed those flowers??", "just take a look at these orange berries!!", "Tiago, stop the car!!"...
Childhood memories have been triggered too. Not that my youth was particularly bucolic (it wasn't), but children — even urban children — do tend to spend a lot of time outdoors. Nowadays when I sense the sweet smell of a fig tree on a very hot day, I feel like I'm 8 years old for a split second.
Ridiculous? Endearing? It doesn't matter, really: truth is, I now feel much more awake. And full of hope to one day put down roots in the Portuguese countryside.
(photo: © Constança Cabral)
