Trafika Europe 9/10 - UK in Europe

JoanMargarit

The big parterre My childhood died in Turó Park. I can still see those summer mornings, the brilliant greens and the happiness with which we ran about, how we’d stop

at the little jets of those fountains that I feel wetting my lips again. The dazzle of light began in the lake

with the waterlilies’ sumptuous whiteness and the ight of dragon ies like angels that would stop in one spot in mid-air. And the light spread out, with the sparkling of the water sprinklers, over the grass of the big parterre: an open, forbidden space, nothing but quiet grass, protected by the border of white-painted stakes. To my eyes, the calm of a huge garden.

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