Eugénia Soares Lopes - O Caderno

On a bright, sunny day in early spring, the blue sky had long since awakened when his grandfather, who was fifteen years old, handed him a notebook.

A notebook with smooth pages; a marbled paper cover; hand-bound. At his teenage age, Gustavo walked—with unhurried steps—the paths and shortcuts at the foot of the hill. He gazed, enchanted, at the landscape that unfolded before him. He saw and noticed the little things. He let himself be touched by the essence of the places. Amazed, he sat down on a slope or a soft rock or some other spot, legs crossed; he took from his pocket the notebook his grandfather had given him, and a fine-nib pen; brown, earth-colored ink. And he wrote.