The Painted Animals of the Red Rocks

Beyond the town, the land changes costume. The pink plaster gives way to pine forest, and out of the forest rise great rounded cliffs of red sandstone, carved by rain and wind into waves and whale backs and half melted castles. The locals call this place the Rodeno pines, and the moment Polly arrives, a red squirrel drops a pine cone on her head by way of welcome.

Iza grada zemlja mijenja kostim. Ružičasta žbuka ustupa mjesto borovoj šumi, a iz šume se dižu velike zaobljene litice crvenog pješčenjaka, koje su kiša i vjetar isklesali u valove, kitova leđa i napola rastopljene dvorce. Mještani ovo mjesto zovu borici Rodena, i čim Polly stigne, crvena joj vjeverica u znak dobrodošlice baci češer na glavu.

The squirrel, once she has apologized, leads Polly along a sandy path to a shallow rock shelter. On the smooth red stone, someone has painted animals. Deer with branching antlers, wild goats mid leap, hunters drawn as slim dark strokes. The paint has faded to the color of dried blood and honey, but the animals still move if you look at them sideways.

Vjeverica, nakon što se ispriča, povede Polly pješčanom stazom do plitkog kamenog zaklona. Na glatkoj crvenoj stijeni netko je naslikao životinje. Jelene razgranatih rogova, divlje koze u skoku, lovce nacrtane kao tanke tamne poteze. Boja je izblijedjela do nijanse sasušene krvi i meda, ali životinje se još uvijek miču pogledaš li ih iskosa.

These paintings are thousands of years old, made by people who knew this forest before it had a name. Today they are protected as world heritage, alongside painted shelters across all of eastern Spain. Crossbills chatter in the pines overhead while Polly studies a painted bird, wing lines still clear after all this time, and feels an odd warm kinship across the centuries.

Ove su slike stare tisućama godina, a naslikali su ih ljudi koji su poznavali ovu šumu prije nego što je imala ime. Danas su zaštićene kao svjetska baština, zajedno s oslikanim zaklonima diljem istočne Španjolske. Krstokljuni čavrljaju u borovima iznad dok Polly proučava naslikanu pticu, čije su linije krila još uvijek jasne nakon svog tog vremena, i osjeti čudnu toplu srodnost preko stoljeća.

On the flight back, the evening sun sets the red rocks glowing like coals. Somewhere below, a roe deer steps out between the pines, glances up, and steps back into shadow, exactly as its portrait has been doing on the stone wall for several thousand years. Some things, Polly thinks, simply enjoy being animals here.

Na povratku večernje sunce raspali crvene stijene da svijetle poput žeravice. Negdje dolje srna zakorači između borova, podigne pogled i vrati se u sjenu, točno onako kako to njezin portret čini na kamenom zidu već nekoliko tisuća godina. Neke stvari, pomisli Polly, jednostavno uživaju biti životinje ovdje.