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One's head in the clouds

If you too have been scolded all your life for having your "head  in the clouds", and always been exhorted  to remain firmly planted on ground and walk quickly towards objectives reachebles only with shoes on your feet, in Porto Rafael you can finally free yourself from ballasts, slowly lifting you up, while an unexpected panorama of life, shapes and colors opens up above and below you.


A few inches from ground, when  just started your timid ascent, like children disobeying their strict preceptors, you are likely to narrowly miss the head of a cormorant coming out of the sea, with a small fish in his beak, before he resumes his taut flight along water. Funny mix of terrestrial and aquatic nature, cormorant prefers sheltered seas, avoids deep waters even when close to the mainland and rarely moves away from shores. It spends a lot of time on land, perched on rocks, cliffs, sandbars, shipwrecks, poles or bare trees.


So don't be offended if he just bless your journey with a long questioning look: he is barred from altitudes, and ignoring where you are going, he even doesn't know he should envy you.

A little further up, you are almost certain you are about colliding against a lonely pink cloud. Shortly before the crash you may close your eyes, ready for the soft and inevitable recoil, before realize it only deals with a flock of flamingos in flight, probably frightened to see you floating in the sky like them, highlighting danger with the many expressive calls their species own.

Your bizarre presence will not go unnoticed even by ducks, coots, storks, sultan chickens, black-winged stilts, kestrels, buzzards, peregrine falcons, queen's falcons, griffons,  Sardinian partridges; and if by chance you extend your flight until late at night, owls and barn owls will keep you company. You will discover air is by no means the catastrophic void someone had described you  - synonymous with debauchery, laziness, carelessness -, but it rather contains an infinity of stable roads through which multitudes of winged beings move safely, following millenary and infallible trajectories, a carriageable passage projected by a barefoot Engineer with unrivaled talent.


Shaken by a shiver of awareness and wonder, maybe you realize you have climbed too high, or maybe you only remember that tonight you have guests for dinner at Villa Aidan, and that you still have to pick up the roasted suckling pig from Oggiano's butcher downtown. Don't be scared. Trust that the right wind starts blowing, the Sardinian air is full of them: Mistral, Ponente, Scirocco, Grecale, Tramontana. Take the first one that comes along, they are Palau's sky-cabs. Your guests will be surprised to see you a little distracted while dining, looking strangely dreamy.


Someone will report having see you "with head in the clouds", don't pay attention.

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Porto Rafael Real Estate Blog

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