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It is usually dark and cold whenever I go past those places and those trees.
I light them up with the lights of my car.
Most of the times I hurry from one place to another so as to do some work that seems to me the most important thing in the world, comfortably isolated by the speed and by the loud music on the radio.
Why do I stop,I wonder?
Something to do with the outline of those branches, captivated grotesque cries of those trees, they wave at me and talk to me at the same time... No, it is not a greeting while passing by, but somehow, frenzied by the road, they hail me to stop, they summon us all. I hurriedly take a photo of them, so as not to miss them.
What was our connection with nature? With the tree of life?
I am trying to remember...
Our memory has been washed away by this endless hurrying... to the abyss.