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Back to Chile
Photos
► city&harbor
► pablo neruda
► the mountains
► the river
► the sea
► the spa
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The River |
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We follow the river and the river follows us. Sometimes the river stops and
we stop by the river. We pick up the pebbles, we taste their shape, smooth
and sweet. The river is our snake in the grass, hiding and moving. And the
snake is lean till it eats a big pig and the river has a belly swollen like
a snake that has eaten a pig. She has a big thirst and glides through the
high grasses, slips out of sight, rests satisfied under the red bridge. One
day we get lost in the mountains. Not too far from the city, the world. Dirt
roads split every second, they weave a network of roads on the slopes. They
never make a mistake, they continue to weave a pattern we cannot discover.
Invisible hands guide the thread, one left and the other right. And the
pattern becomes full woven and dense, the roads broaden into barren ground,
rocks and stones.Where the plain stops and jumps up the mountain, water
falls down, the place of the waterfall.
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