A few days ago, in a glorious late afternoon, I arrived on the banks of the Tuela River, a tributary of the Tua River, and the scenery I came across was wonderful and imposing. I was particularly touched by the group of poplars that were on the other bank, in a triangular sequence of heights, all full of yellow leaves, very evocative of autumn and the impetuous force of the river current.

I remembered the famous poetry by the Portuguese poet Luís de Camões (circa 1524-1580): «The water of this river runs dark / Darkened by what falls from the sky and from the hills; / The flowery fields have dried up, / The valley is impassible, and cold. / Summer is over, the burning summer is over, / One thing is changed for another; / False fate no longer / Rules or misrules the world // Time has its known order, / The world does not; but is so confused / That God seems to have forgotten it. / Events, opinions, nature and habitat / Make it seem to us that there is / Nothing more in this life than what there seems to be.».