Dalí [antikvár]

We must therefore qualify this supposed influence that the wind has over the character of the people. Nevertheless, the influence of the tramuntana on the landscape is unquestionable. Beneath the tumultuous gusts of air, the vertical elegance of the cypresses is bent like an elastic band. Olive and pine trees grow in an uncontrolled and twisted way, the branches coil- ing around each other with an almost Baroque angst. Amid the furious cries, the tramuntana sculpts the rocks and geology of the sloping foothills with the aid of the biting salt that the waves spit out. However, where the atmospheric action is once again more per- ceptible, more disruptive, is in the special light that the sky acquires during the tramuntanades. The fir- mament, open and clean, turns such a deep blue that it can hurt your eyes. The blue is extended over the earth with an unending voracity, even further than the line where the sea ends. Beneath such a sky, the contours of distant objects become hard, firm and precise, as if they were part of a diorama or three-dimensional film. A sparkling halo runs over the angles of the roofs, the silhouette of the mountains and the patches of vegeta- tion. Everything acquires an anomalous, weird and metaphysical background.