impressions: Ligonde

Galician villages are cattle villages. Almost every house has got a stable. At five in the afternoon, there are cows on the street. They know where to go.

And for the cows that want to find their own stubborn path; there are ropes everywhere, ready to be in the way.

If you watch carefully, you see the older women. A bench or a chair in the shadow. They don't have to sit where they see everything; the sounds of the village tell them what happens. Always the same dogs barking; you know the different sound of every tractor. Cocks crowing, cattle that moo impatiently: the neighbours are always late.