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I am looking out my window, trying to touch the past. Just beyond the stucco covered walls of the adjoining buildings, just past the red tile roof, I see a sliver of stone wall. The collision of time, the juxtaposition that makes up daily life in Europe.
What is lost in our American lives in neighborhoods built only 100 years ago on farmland that gave way to factories? When the English came to find the Quinnipiac - 300, 4000 years ago, did they erase the wooden longhouses of the native culture? No doubt the Quinnipiac structures would have been gone by now - wood does not last like stone, but nonetheless, the erase is complete. Vestiges are found only in museums, where they are easily forgotten.
On every street here in Arles-sur-Tech I see the collision of time. Stone walls that half fallen down, that once marked the city limits, once marked a zone of safety.
This image is out my window, but it could just as easily be down a street, around a corner. Stone against stucco, past against present.
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