How brief our presence, in light of the unstoppable passage of the successive generations
Villazón, Potosí, Bolivia
Felipe was a little distracted at the moment, slightly absorbed in his own silent considerations, under the quiet intimacy they shared in those late hours of the night. It was precisely at that moment, when the barking of a dog was clearly heard from somewhere in the distance; apparently just that and nothing more, a trivial matter and totally insignificant in itself.
Villazón, Potosí, Bolivia
Nonetheless, as it has happened to all of us, at some point in our life, that incident was of enough weight, so as to provoke a reminiscence from the distant past, almost drowned in oblivion. So it came to pass, that Felipe remembered, and in a most impressively detailed way, a certain conversation that he had with Angelica, a few years before.
This happened during a morning of unforgettable sun, it was softly basked in the warm light of the higher mountain reaches. As if it were by magic and against its will, the winter spell had finally given up its hold to a summer that brought a welcomed relief to the city dwellers.
Villazón, Potosí, Bolivia
A summer that was arduously awaited for by all the people of Bogota. They had endured for many months what seemed to be interminable eternities of intensely cold weather, unending rains, and if that weren’t enough, all this was capped by the early fog that fell thickly on the city, as they sat down to lunch and would disappear until way after a bleak sunrise the next day.
Those were incessant months of heavy clothes were the bundled bodies of the weary dwellers of the Capital city desperately sought refuge from the intense cold weather of the eastern highlands that penetrated the marrow of their daily routines.
Villazón, Potosí, Bolivia
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