Thunder

This morning I left home very early. I’ve seen Sunrise while filming on my bike. The day was gray and threatening rain, as any winter day, but today the Sun has departed the clouds a moment so I could contemplate the spectacle. At that moment the light has fallen from the sky and has precipitated on the world as a cataract. It was a message of hope, as a blessing. I’ve breathed deep and I have filled my spirit, and my whole being, that fresh air and that light. Then I continued my way. There on the horizon some spacing Thunder could be heard.

I’ve gone far, far away, drunk of peace and hope, and once again, I felt like a tramp, a monk, a hermit or a pilgrim I don’t know. Perhaps just a simple fisherman’s dreams on a bicycle, in a sea of endless fields and waves of sand. Here, on my bike, I turn cold and heat, thirst and tiredness; I receive the blessing of the four elements, rest of the world of men, travel and learn. I observe what surrounds me, bendigo and I curse, but I always walk. My bike, I speak, patient, meanwhile. She teaches me. At the turn of this long trip, I found my rhythm and in some moments I’ve flown on the sand, next to a small bird, yellow feathers or along any rabbit. Everything flowed soft and my soul was growing an immense feeling of well-being.

It is not only the technique allowing you to shoot at a fast pace, but a mixture of concentration, strength and wisdom. So roll is something like to meditate. You hear your breath, feel your heart, and you sink very deep in your body to speak their language, which is the eternal language of life. Know thyself and thou shalt be as an Angel, says the poet; I today feel that every day that passes I am a little better. The summer heat is left behind; now begins the wind. Then it will be rain, cold and more later, the snow, and I atravesare stations such as those birds that fly over me in perfect formation. On the road I’ll be way. I’ll drink the rain and I will be cloud in the clouds and water in the water. I’ll mud in the mud, bliss and tiredness, death and rebirth a thousand times and thus, in that perpetual transformation, get to a point where I’ll find answers to these questions that I’m not even now able to formulate. That is my dream and my hope.