Wednesday, around noon. There I was, at the western edge of the state where I live. Taking photographs of a beautiful city, of a valley filled with buildings and human beings who, for the most part, ignore how precious it truly is to be surrounded by the nature we have been given. On one side, the mountain slopes; on the other, the sea. To the north, concrete, the symbol of civilization. And I decided to capture it all wearing nothing but a pair of sneakers, a lot of Incubus in my ears, and walking under the sun of a winter that is coming to an end.
And yes, there I am. In the brush. Walking along and exploring part of those hills that shape my city’s horizon. I saw this idea in a YouTube video set in Los Angeles, which, economic and cinematic differences aside, is quite similar to San Diego, my city in Venezuela. Seeing how human influence has dominated spaces that for eons belonged to Mother Nature is, at the very least, an invitation to think and reflect.
We firmly believe we are the most capable species, the very pinnacle of evolution itself. And the truth is that, in practical terms, we are nothing more than a small speck of dust in time. I do not hide or deny that I am privileged to have been born, raised, and to live in a period of humanity where antibiotics, condoms, and cameras exist. It could have been far more challenging. Still, in Egypt, Greece, Mesopotamia, or with the Incas, I do not think it was entirely different. We have always admired what nature has allowed us to conquer.
It does not matter what you think makes us different. When you reach a high point, whatever it may be a mountain, an elevator, a terrace, a balcony, we all look toward the horizon in a reflective way. We admire our infinite smallness. Maybe we are not fully aware of it, but I believe that is exactly what happens. And I am grateful that, this time, I can feel my thoughts through the influence of Incubus. A band that is perfect for creating experimental atmospheres and that enhances that feeling of adrenaline and awe.
The weather on a day of walking shifts constantly. It begins with a light mist, then the sun’s rays warm everything; later it turns cloudy again and the sun hides, threatening rain. In my opinion, these are paths we rarely give the attention they deserve. I insist, the rhythm of our obligations and the stress of meeting our needs deprive us of witnessing this; our union, our connection with what is beautiful, what is truly immense, and what will remain long after we are gone from this existence; the immensity of nature.
