Encounter in the Middle of Nowhere
Today the ashes from the Puyehue Vulcano, six hundred kilometers away from here, fell and then swirled with the furious winds of General Roca. The sun was shining through the clouds and the whole mood of the skies fell upon the city like no other day of autumn has ever done.
The horizon was veiled with a layer of dust and smoke and ashes, merged with the misty clouds above, so I decided to venture into the wilderness around me and see if there were any reminders of the ashy greetings from Chile.
There was none.
After some wandering I met a couple of dogs barking through the dried weeds. Near some fruit trees there was a person, cleaning and carrying wood.
His name is Oscár. He was born in General Roca and has always been here. He works in this small farm three days a week, cleaning and keeping an eye on the dogs, an ostrich and the house.
I’ve always thought that staying in this arid and dry lands is part of a statement, a solid decision of wanting this, of liking this, of being in love with whatever is of your appeal. A conscious shout to the skies saying, “This is what I want”.
Oscár heralded this proudly. He couldn’t be happier. Even working in something that looks meaningless and eternal -wouldn’t that be an ulterior goal for anyone?- seemed to cheer his heart with joy.
I don’t know what it is, I don’t know where it is and I don’t know if it even is something. But there’s true beauty somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
PS: You can see the whole photographic set HERE.
Poesía en la nada.