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Jeep solved nothing, neither my father. There we were with our big star in our hands,
defeated by a little kite. David knocked down Goliath!
My father said Jeep came from a fine family. His father was Lord Ford Wyllis and
his mother was Lady Ford Wyllis. They had sumptuous names that demonstrated the
lineage of the dogs, and thus Jeep would be pretty good! My father enchanted us with
his stories. I never made stars anymore, only kites! I used “cerol” in a lot of them, because
I learned how to make it. But I did not try to cross other kites. It was not cool. I made the
kites, raised them up, handled them, or simply contemplated them.
When I was 13, living in Campos, I started having new friends. I began to have
other interests, playing volleyball, going to the Sunday dances, and then the first girl-
friends. In the following summer I started going to most populous beaches. Surfing,
talking, flirting ... In the afternoon, volleyball! Coming home late afternon, walking down
by Restinga, admiring the sunset and the giant sky shades that were always spectacular.
When I came back home, it was possible to observe the first stars in the sky. We still lived
away from the city and the low light that enabled us to enjoy an evening performance. I
never got tired of admiring the stars.
Moreover, the kites were litle by litle kept away, remaining in the memory of the
old days. Time ran quickly. I became a graduated man, living in Rio de Janeiro, got mar-
ried, took responsibilities, and the children were born. But Grussaí always had been our
refuge. Our holidays were always there. The boys, along with cousins and friends in huge
groups, enjoyed the delights of that corner, still preserved to these days. Maybe they en-
joyed Grussaí much more than us.
Now, we have another house built by our parents in the 70’s. A wonderful place.
A friend who once visited us, said: “What a lovely place; it looks like a piece of heaven on
earth”. But I feel that my relationship with Grussaí has changed. Got distant, we do not
go so frequently, just a few weekends and in the summer. I think our time there won’t last
much longer.
Every year I take photos of Restinga, because I know that this scenario will chan-
ge soon, and a lot! Some transformations take time, but eventually happen. I do not know
how I will feel when it happens. I do not know if Grussaí have for me the same feeling, the
same flavor. If it will cause me the same sensations.
Oh! Restinga. How long my eyes will contemplate its green spaces, the soft wind
singing in the casuarina trees, the singing of birds in our garden, the moonlight and sunsets?
How much longer?