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MADAGASCAR
Avenue of baobabs and below a Malagasy woman
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The trees of eternity
In the west, near Morondava, the Avenue of
the Baobabs opens up, one of those places
that leave you speechless. A dozen monu-
mental trees rise above the red earth like the
columns of a natural cathedral. At sunset, the
light paints them gold and the shadows stretch
into infinity.
The children from nearby villages run between
the trunks, cyclists stop to look, and the elders
watch in silence. The Malagasy believe that the
baobabs hold the spirit of the ancestors, and
perhaps for that reason the place conveys a
peace that borders on the sacred.
Here the trees do not only grow, they
accompany us and are part of local life.
El aire se llena de polvo y de risas. Algunos
niños se cuelgan de las raíces secas, otros
corren descalzos detrás del sol que se apaga.
Es una imagen simple y poderosa: la infancia
jugando entre los árboles más viejos del mun-
do, como si nada pudiera romper esa armonía.










































































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