The plains are silent as we cycle through them,
and it\u2019s almost a desert:<\/p>\n
the endless, barren fields \u2013\u00a0harvested or burnt out \u2013 are the same pale, yellowish-brown as the old, quiet stones of the occasional (old, quiet) village we cross;<\/p>\n
the sun\u2019s beating down on us as if it were August instead of October;<\/p>\n
the lines and shapes of the land are blurred in the haze.<\/p>\n
It could almost be a movie scene \u2013<\/p>\n
and suddenly, for a moment, the tractor that turned onto the road right in front of me, breaking the silence, turns into a \u2013 pale, yellowish-brown \u2013 death machine sent by some nameless, dystopian empire<\/p>\n
and the wind that whistles in my ear becomes a sentient, malicious force sapping away my strength as I push against it.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m almost afraid, in this liminal place.<\/p>\n
Yet, I am not.<\/p>\n
Because I\u00a0am<\/em>\u00a0the wind. Because this soundless almost-desert, bereft of colours, is but a weak, real-life reflection<\/p>\n of my inner landscape of grief.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n","_en_post_name":"laments-from-the-road-part-2-carrion-de-los-condes","_en_post_excerpt":"","_en_post_title":"Laments from the Road, Part 2 - Carri\u00f3n de los Condes","_fr_post_content":"","_fr_post_name":"","_fr_post_excerpt":"","_fr_post_title":"","_nl_post_content":"","_nl_post_name":"","_nl_post_excerpt":"","_nl_post_title":"","edit_language":"fr","advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[6,5],"tags":[80],"class_list":{"0":"post-2515","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","6":"hentry","7":"category-blog","8":"category-english","9":"tag-laments","11":"post-with-thumbnail","12":"post-with-thumbnail-large"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/eszter-maura.eu\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/05\/PXL_20221005_141511653.MP_-scaled.jpg?fit=1440%2C2560&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4KP79-Ez","jetpack_likes_enabled":false,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2515","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2515"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2515\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2518,"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2515\/revisions\/2518"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2517"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2515"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2515"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eszter-maura.eu\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2515"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Because if the wings on my back were real (and not just true), they would span the entire horizon.<\/p>\n