Motionless walk

It happened while the guardian of the skies painted the landscape with pastel colours, threading his fingers through the clouds. The moon absorbed those nuances and carefully mixed them with the brightness he got to share.

That thin celestial body may have seemed ordinary and the same as any other day, but one lonely man sensed something strange was happening in the air.

He looked for answers in the reflection that the sea would provide.

Didn't get them.

At that moment the moon was too weak to illuminate his thoughts.

I witnessed that unusual situation when I was pedalling my bike by the seashore. I was riding so quickly that the wind made my hair a big, fluttering flag.

Many centuries ago a more appropriate vehicle for me would be a horse, but alas, horsemen often fall wounded in battles.

If they survive, they can recount the battle first-hand. Or remain silent and solemnly leave that work for the historians of recent times.

After all, history can be rewritten as many times as mankind needs it.

That is what I heard the other day when a book was presented. History. But seen differently, because circumstances have changed. Really?

In the past horsemen knew how to cover long distances - crossing whole continents, but I wouldn't know if it was easy for them or not. I came to this Wednesday Walk by that metal bicycle which in reality has never moved from its place.

But that was just one of those strange things I mentioned at the beginning of the post.
Far more stranger was the labourer who didn't seem to move.

He was frozen in time.

The dispersed clouds still moved through his hollow body.

His colleague was smarter... or he just had a more practical approach toward the circumstances. Why doing any physical effort if, despite all, they stay inert silhouettes?

They could not move a rock from its place. Neither they could move a little pebble that got there by accident from the beach. Nada.

Now you think that this walk was also so stationary and I became one of these statues.

Well, no. I kept walking.
All the way to Atalaya Terra.

Inspired by the planet Venus, this sculpture crowns the end of the promenade.

Getting closer to it, we can learn a few facts that will not change with the passage of time. The most interesting one is that the sculpture has been made with materials recovered from railway lines.

I had it clear that Atalaya Terra would not move from its place either. It was an artwork of 4.5 tons of stagnant iron that one day served to bring movement.

The iron ship had a similar fate.

It was anchored on a rock.

But my feet weren't. They continued walking, already toward my home using this illuminated pavement.

The moon also shone brighter, but in the end, I don't know if that lonely man from the beginning of the post waited for nature, people and time to start moving again.