mercredi 28 août 2019

O cavalo branco e o noitibo


We were in Cumeada, on our way back. At the roundabout, a nightjar was flying up and coming back to the road, and then flying again. I went out of the car, following its ballet, trying to approach it. And in the middle of the night, the white horse suddenly appeared, with the nightjar back to the road a little bit further. Magic...

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