First, I love the art. Is that a painting, I mean, done with paint or computer generated?

Then, it’s funny. I took a rafting trip with my son the other day. The guide seemed so in tune with the river. Really liked it. I wanted to write something but words fail me of late. Or I fail words, let’s not blame them. They know they have power.

Anyway, I wrote this in my drafts folder, maybe one day something will come out:

“We let ourselves be guided by the water
Small decisive commands
to direct our path”

And then, Neruda. At some point when I was a teenager (and it was nighttime and wanted a definition of love, I guess) I found 20 poemas de amor and another of his books, maybe A Hundred Sonets? I don’t remember.

The thing is I remember more about the way he wrote about trees than what he wrote about love.

But who could not fall in love with the Chilean forests and its raging rivers, its glaciers and constant rain?

Thank you for taking me back there.
Pablo