Friday, September 11, 2009

Based on a tree story



Her mom's words sounded muffled behind the door she had just closed as she ran out of the house. "Take the fruit with you!". For a six year old the field ahead of her looked vast. She watched how a group of girls ran far away. She also ran, as kids run, enthusiastically, aware of the horizon and miraculously skipping every trip of her feet. Her mom would probably be watching her through the window, sighing, complaining of the little time they had left to finish their holidays.
Her friends had reached the solitary tree and were working their way up. They played almost without words, pulling a twig and directing an orchestra, tearing off some leaves and pretending they were food, blowing the ants on the trunk, shaking dubiously some spiderwebs... The tree was the world.
She woke up from her dreamy state and felt her foot aching. Se had probably sprained her ankle, foolishly, she thought, when she had stepped down a sidewalk. She stared at her sipping-coffee husband and said "we should move to a place with more trees".
It was getting late and she realized that walking with an aching foot would slow her down. She hated being late for work and frowned. Her husband's words sounded muffled behind the close door, "Take some ibuprofen with you!" For a forty year old the city ahead of her looked vast.

................................................................................................................

Las palabras de su madre sonaron amortiguadas tras la puerta que había cerrado al salir corriendo de casa, "llevate la fruta!". A sus seis años el campo que se extendía fuera parecía enorme. Miró a lo lejos y vió un grupo de niñas correteando. Corrió, como corren los niños, entusiásticamente, pendiente del horizonte y salvando milagrosamente cada pequeño tropiezo de sus pequeños pies. Su madre estaría mirando por la ventana, suspirando, quejándose de los pocos días que faltaban para acabar las vacaciones.
Sus amigas habían llegado al árbol solitario y comenzaban a trepar por él. Casi sin palabras jugaban. Cogían una ramita y dirigían una orquesta, arrancaban unas hojitas y hacían comiditas, soplaban a las hormigas y con manos inseguras agitaban una tela de araña. Un árbol era el mundo.
Salió de su ensoñación y sintió un dolor punzante en el pie. Seguro que al final se había hecho un esguince, de la manera más tonta, pensó, al bajar una acera. En el desayuno miró a su marido y dijo "deberíamos ir a vivir a un sitio con árboles".
Se le estaba haciendo tarde y con ese pié hinchado tendría que andar más lento. No le gustaba llegar tarde al trabajo y se enfurruñó. Las palabras de su marido sonaron amortiguadas tras la puerta, "Llevate ibuprofeno!" A sus cuarenta años la ciudad que se extendía ante ella le pareció enorme.


Today's music: Rufus Wainwright

15 comments:

la ninja said...

a sus treinta y ocho esta ninja vuelve de la fisio en su día libre, sonríe y asiente con la cabecita mientras lee esta entrada que le ha gustado mucho...

anne said...

This has got me thinking of my childhood. You are a good storyteller.

su said...

muy buena!

Anairam said...

What a lovely story - I can see it as a kind of a video - how the six-year-old morphs into the 40-year-old; the fruit clasped in her hand becomes a bottle of pills, the tree changes into a building. Great photos too!

Veja cecilia said...

I just love your story esti, you truly are a storyteller. And I can see it in images aswell!

nathalie et cetera said...

I really like your story too. So well written. I also love the photos. Were they taken far apart in time?

Mary-Laure said...

Estas fotos son increibles. Los colores de la foto de arriba parecen magicas.

husband said...

A juzgar por tus dos últimos posts, este otoño tenemos que ir a ver bosques

This autumn we must go and visit some nearby forests

Inés said...

Otra disciplina a desarrollar para la que estás sobradamente capacitada Esti. Esperando tus textos...

Aran said...

que fotos esti! cada vez mejor. y si, muchos bosques ultimamente no? las fotos, los dibujos...

la ninja said...

I love how the husband comments under... well, "husband" :)

Jorge said...

Atencion al efecto pinhole, promete ser el must del otoño en pintameldia...

Lila Ortega said...

HERMOSO....

sarajo frieden said...

i love how "husband" suggested a visit to nearby forests! It's a beautfiul story and, as always, your photographs are stunning. I have not been visiting many blogs of late, so wrapped up in projects. Es bueno tomarse unas vacaciones y dejar de visitar...

Esti said...

sarajo, I know what you mean, but at the same time I find surfing the net is sooo inspiring. I'm glad to hear about your many projects :)