Up in the hills of Ubatumirim, someone plays every morning a humming melody that echoes far over the valleys as the sun rays dissolve the mist covering the slopes. That is one my oldest childhood memories, that resurrects the curiosity to know indeed who was that person. But I never came to know...
I remember clearly the days when I would stand in front of the door and stare at the blueish vegetation of the hill, moving my eyes slowly to the ridge and hear attentively the fading but sweet sound that came from somewhere in the jungle.
I grew up, life became dynamic and the years blurred the lines of the long gone past. I am only left with the view of the mountain and the echo of the humming melody inside me.
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