Cuando vi estas piedras de granito por primera vez, un día nublado, de fuerte viento, pensé que combatían contra el agua y el viento, aliados contra un enemigo poderoso que se hacía fuerte anclando sus raíces en la sólida orilla.

El viento, pensaba yo, impulsaba con todas sus fuerzas el agua del océano hasta formar olas que eran arietes enrabietados de espumas. Las colisiones eran tremendas y las rocas aguantaban los embates con sus minerales apretados como si fueran dientes o músculos.

La violencia del día anterior solo había sido la suma del esfuerzo de tres colosos y a mí solo me quedaba agachar la cabeza y sentirme pequeño ante tanta maravilla.

The history of time

When I saw these granite stones for the first time, on a cloudy day with a strong wind, I thought they were fighting against water and wind, allied against a powerful enemy that was becoming strong by anchoring its roots in the solid shore.

The wind, I thought, was pushing the ocean water with all its force until it formed waves that were battering rams made of foam. The collisions were tremendous, and the rocks withstood the ravages with their minerals clenched like teeth or muscles.

However, the next morning, when the storm had subsided, a gentle breeze drove small waves that caressed the rocks. I saw that each caress was a line that wind, water and rock wrote to tell us the history of time.

The violence of the previous day had only been the sum of the efforts of three giants and all that was left for me was to bow my head and feel small in the face of so much wonder.