Souvenirs of a place Are thirty kilometers of extension, innumerable names throughout the passage, in some stretches sufficiently desert, in others, landscapes framed for coconut palms and lakes; located in the Island of Luzia Saint, here it is that the new Atalaia appears, wonderful land. Light and heat, sun, river, beauty and chaos, if contrast in one alone environment. Hospitable, captive people, friend, a true show of natural beauty, a paradise the open sky. Add to your understanding with Levi’s. Bronzed skin, clothes little, foot in the soil, simplicity; the covered with star night invites in them, spree, violo, luau and song; meeting of the tribes, people of all style, the search of a shelter, the search of a nest. Small Terrinha, but a great family, where everybody is known, everybody if conquest With me I bring souvenirs of a place, of that place, sensations, smell, palate, will, homesicknesses and whenever I can he is pra there that I come back. There I made friends, owners of bar, waiter, fisherman, tocador, visitors, natives all very dear, congregated in a place whose sensation of aconchego peace seems to transceder. To wake up, to open the window and to feel cheirinho of the maresia, to tardinha to seat in the sand and to attend the spectacle that is to put of the sun, a true postal card. But nor all enjoy the same of privilege, few that give to the right of compartinhar of the simple things of the life in way the nature, and even look at that it nor charges therefore, because do not have money in the world that pays.

Come back pro river Sergipe, the paradise invites in them Making only one small one appeals: clama for preservation, for care, what it does not walk happening, falling in the disdain the New Atalaia is delivers to the chaos, abandoned exactly, the hidrovirio delivers to the rags, the fluvial passage of the rafts, abolished. In last the ten years this paradise comes suffering with the indifference. The square Gonzaga Luiz, keeps the bust of one of the biggest figures northeasterns; it also receives a sculpture sufficiently damaged of a boat, this, in homage to the fishing, that inhabit there and of it fishes make to sprout the sustenance of the family. There I forget them problems and them incovenincias that the life in the city it brings in them, of the pollution of the automobiles, the rhythm sped up of day-by-day, of the atropelos, the collections, the excess of responsibility and tasks that in them become insensitive mechanics so and, incapable to value the things simplest of the life, without if of the account of the grandiosidade in which the nature in them contemplates the all time. At last, that she is registered here, not only my devotion the island of Luzia Saint, but my indignation related to the indifference that is installed there, therefore from there, I pan my souvenirs, as well as my shout of protest! Souvenirs of a place, much history pra to count