The private home

Palamira branches are usefully placed in such a way as to facilitate the body's ascending movement when climbing the tree.
Conversely, coming back down it is rather confusing to know where they are and you get caught in a kind of web.
So you have to keep climbing all the time. You don't even notice when you get to the top, because at the top the dynamic layout of the branches reverses imperceptibly and you think you are still going up when you are actually coming down. You then reach the foot of the tree somehow feeling that you are on top of the forest.

They say the mist that forms on the glass sides of bus shelters causes inscriptions made years before to reappear. Some even go as far as to claim that these inscriptions were originally formed in the sand used to make the glass. They were supposedly written by all those who, having gone off into the desert in search of some truth, lost their way in the moving sands. To avoid sinking too quickly, they tried to control their nerves by tracing inscriptions with a pleasant movement of the hand. They did not try to find out what they were writing; they just wanted to find the words that would hold them for as long as possible on the surface. The ones who came back spend their time breathing on the windows in the hope of finding their inscriptions and at last grasping their meaning.

When they have their hammer in their hand, wrought iron workers build up their courage by telling themselves stories. For extra efficiency, many of them do so in Morse code and by alternating heavy and light blows of the hammer lend rhythm to their work.
On stormy evenings, the wrought iron workers come lurking around the public gardens and parks for which they made the gates. They hope that the gale will set them beating in a series of heavy and light blows, thereby enabling them to hear the end of the stories they never got round to finishing.