Sitting among the remains of the foundations of the ancient city of Lauro , surrounded by a magnificent forest full of periwinkle, broom, rosemary, wild mint and primroses; the rocks strike me.
Spring has swallowed them up, but you can still see the stone walls wisely placed so that they remain standing, after almost thirty centuries… How did they know what was the optimal way to build? Did they use calculations? Or were they guided by another mind?
In the midst of these imaginations I remember that tomorrow is the solstice and that, in addition, a solar eclipse will take place. Did the Iberians know when such an event was happening, even without being able to appreciate it from our land?
I like to say “our land”. It is the same sand, the same stone, the same Spirit of the place that observes, cares for and guides us . Me, you, and the Iberian ancestors who inhabited the lands of Llerona. And sometimes I seem to feel, also within me, the same wild force that beats among us all.
It seems to me when the same cycles that I see outside resonate within me, in the self that we call nature . When my spring becomes summer and everything that I planted and grew becomes fruits that I can share with those I love and those around me. When the sun calls me outside and heals my wounds with its warmth. When I accept that I can’t always shine brightly and that cloudy days allow me chaos and rest.
I feel the heartbeat of Life in me , when I realize that in certain (social) constellations there is an alignment for important things to happen, and in others, good doses of learning.
When I realize that whether I am expanding, flowing or freezing cold; I am the same water, which circulates, waters and nourishes.
I mirror the balance between singing and being silent, playing and calming down, inhaling and exhaling, growing and decomposing, pause and action; which impacts me so much in the wild.
At times of solstice, all these mirrors become more evident to me. I am once again offered the opportunity to participate in the melody between rhythms.
And suddenly I feel ridiculous going to bed and getting up so late with the sun. I’m losing my rhythm! I’m out of this singing together!
Perhaps this is one of the greatest symptoms of civilization and, at the same time, of disconnection: going out at a late hour . Getting through rainy days as if nothing happened. And sleeping locked up while the full moon vibrates outside.
The same moon , exactly the same moon, that the people of Laietana surely contemplated in awe. And the same sun , exactly the same sun, to whom they must have thanked for ripening the fruit of the vineyards. Exactly here, where I am today.
Text: Agnes Ramos
Photography: Marc Guàrdia i Llorens
