Missing you...

Since I went away I have been missing you. Strange, isn't it? Before meeting you I expected I would like you a lot, but I could not advance that I would be attracted to you so bad that I would want for you from the distance.

Lately the wish that has been there all these months is changing to a biting yearning to which I do not seem to find a remedy.



Damn you, dumb American TV series!

Peace of Mind

1993 - 2009

Never again will you wait until everybody has sit down to eat to ask going out.

Never again will you fall asleep in an impossible position.

Never again will you follow the one who's sweeping the floor in order to check if it is done properly.

Never again will you raise your head and close your eyes when I scratch you under your chin.

Never again will you chase my feet when I'm wearing slippers.

Never again will you run in circles around the flat in your daily five minutes of madness, from the living room to the balcony, to the bedroom, to the corridor, to the living room, ...

Never again will you call from the door for the one who's just gone out to take out the rubbish.

Never again will you have that ironic look in your golden eyes, as if you already knew everything.



Never again will you ask someone to turn the tap on for you to drink water.

Never again will you gently lick our finger tips with your scratchy tongue.

Never again will you miaow us to complain when we come back home after having left you alone for one or two days.

Never again will you rub your head on my knees as I duck to say hello, recognising me every time I come back home and marking me as your property once again.

Never again will you threateningly hiss guests who try to stroke you on your back.

Never again will you hide your paws under your body if it's cold.

Never again will you foretell my mother's intention nor will you ever run again to hide under the bed before she gets you into the bathtub.

Never again will you get yourself into paper bags nor will you ever again be afraid of plastic ones.



Never again will you quietly ask us for food as we eat, gently touching our arms with your paw.

Never again will you go out to scout the stair landing, the most mysterious part of your indoors world.

Never again will you keep us in suspense as you walk on the railing of the balcony.

Never again will you fall down to the courtyard from a third floor and get only a scratch on your snout.

Never again will you leave the thinnest grey hairs on our clothes.

Never again will you set up a big fight every time we take you to the vet.

Never again will you fall asleep on our coats just minutes before we have to leave.

Never again will you make us worry about your ageing ailments and the bad health of your kidneys.



Never again will I marvel at the softness of your fur as I stroke you nor will you ever again show your acknowledgement by purring.


I know that the next time that I'm home, in Tarragona, my heart will hope to find you behind any door, but I will never see you again.

Now sleep, sleep forever, sweet Grisona. Go back to the soil and keep shining in our memories.

Elder revisited

You'll probably remember my story about a parasitic elder growing on top of a maple tree.

Well, now the "maple" has finally grown its own leaves and I discovered that it is not a maple tree at all! It has pinnate leaves, instead of the well known maple tree leaves. Its trunk does not quit look like the other maple trees either and the branches have thorns.



Those leaves remembered me of some acacia that grew in my birthplace as I was a child. I liked the oval form of its leaflets very much. After some internet research, I came across what I think is the real identity of my mystery host tree: it is no acacia, but a black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia), also known as false acacia, because it bears a striking similarity to them.

Now I'm not so sure that the elder slowed down the false acacia in growing leaves. Maybe it's just that maple trees are much faster than false acacias. But I discovered some (not parasitised!) false acacias quite close. They have all their leaves, too, but I don't know when did they grew them.

I'm going to have to continue my field research next year!