It narrates the sensitive experience of my childhood landscape. The “monotone pampas plain” is suddenly in an uproar. Intervals of stillness intertwine with the festive and orchestral irruption that my ears celebrate and my eyes discover as projections of lines that are assembled and disassembled in the air. I sing, play, somersaults in the sky, screeches, chorus cackles, melodies. A lone little bird explodes from its quivering crop in a sharp, sustained whistle. Low, restless flights (something they announce). Others like little dots in a flock gracefully pass, stop on the plowed land and jump onto the branches. Rattling swirls, stabbing sounds, up and down, everywhere. There Vanellus cross ... "Teru, teru, teru, take off your cap and put on your hat" I remember the croons of another time ... "ugly bug, ugly bug" seems to say the Flycatcher. The joy in the body returns to my body. Singing.
María Emilia Marroquín. Buenos Aires