Aerial view
Full row of seats for myself, I stretch my legs and try to compensate the lack of sleep after waking up at 3 am to catch a flight to the north coast of Spain.
We used to spend the late summer in here at my aunt’s place, eating ice cream, surfing, skateboarding and tackling with the occasional rain. I remember driving back at the beginning of September, sad music playing on the car, raindrops flowing through the window and the mirage of those full green hills misted with salty air.
I can see a young version of myself as today writing, setting plans and purposes for the new school course, trying to become a better version of myself.
As the plane approaches to the land, I wake up and suddenly, all that tunnel of mountains and small houses that we will pass by
with the car become an aerial view, a big picture from the past where I can start connecting the dots. I can identify that old factory that stunk when we passed by, the gas station where we used to stop for breakfast and the small villages flanked by cows running freely in between.
All seemed so familiar and yet so different; what I used to see from a close view, with the passion and enthusiasm of a kid, became a full picture, a map with invisible marks of places I’ve been in the past. Nothing has moved, and in fact, I neither have changed that much, is just perspective, ain’t no really space, ain’t no time.
Thanks for reading!
If you liked this, share it with a friend and if you have ideas or comments, let’s chat
Yours,
H.