Nuevo Leon thermals
Text from my notes app, June 2023. Photos with Canon SureShot Telemax 35mm and Canon PowerShot A1100.
Monterrey breathes through a chest of mountains connected by a network of wires on every street. The houses here look like clay cubes, colored so particularly that it makes me want to hug them.
I look at the mountains and I see crumbled paper. They separate the sky like a cut sheet that was torn carelessly.
The space where my dad is training for his flight is walled with light aromatic bushes bathed in a bowl of heat and light. I think of how much the plains have to mourn as they watch over the people of Nuevo Leon.
The grass here reaches my bosom, and while I descend on my rented bike down the sloping road, I see right through its uniformed tall body.
Here, I finished a book by Albert Camus and had a staring contest with enormous flies. I also met coach Antonio, his wife Raquel, her mother, and her son Mario.
Being at the hands of the wind makes you realize how much power it has over you. There is as much underneath me as there is above, and we follow birds to find thermals that will only increase the distance between the earth and me. They are the masters of this art.
The outlook in Santiago is thick with butterflies, lifting, fluttering, settling. When I flew on the paraglide with my dad’s coach, I felt like one of them.
When we went hiking, the ringing in my ears blended perfectly with the echoing calls of the birds. This time of day has nearly no shadows; the sun is beset directly above the almost visible heat.
On this day, the clouds had an especially hard time finding their way around the maze of mountain peaks so we “parawaited” during takeoff, collecting irregular pine cones.
