He would always tell me he woke up at 3:00 a.m to drink a cup of coffee with panela and go to work: he cleaned the stable and it took him around up to two or three days to take the weed off of it. He would spend the rest of the day riding his horse trough the lands his family had left him as a legacy. That was his passion, taking care of them.

-Many memories- she used to say. The mountains behind the house made my eyes tremble with joy and realising how the simplest things dazzle your core made me really happy. On the other side of the mountains; him. He was naturally skilled with craft work, he used to draw a lot, but with time he started working on the horses slims, recollecting fossiles he would find on the river and taking care of the animals. Eventually, he adquired many crafting skills and he even carved her a walking stick out of bamboo.

We enjoyed many different stories everytime we gathered in the town, but as the years went by the family grew smaller. The lack of jobs in the countryside made them leave to the city looking for new dreams. However, they could never forget the place they came from. Things like enjoying a beer on the entry way to the house and greeting everyone who passed by like it was the first time they saw in years even though just a couple of hours had passed since the last time, could only happen there.

One night, while we were dinning Nicuro stew, he told us one of his favorite things to do was to go fishing at night, close to the Río Negro flows. He would always go with his best friend Dari and left the house around 6:00 p.m to go trough the old road that lead to her lighted up only by the flashlight. There, they enjoyed the meals she had ready for them. There was a footprint that always caught his attention on those walks: the rocks and fossiles full of history brought memories from the past.

After long working days, he always came back wet by the rain with his shoe soles smeared with coffee, whose smell spreaded troughtout the whole house helped by the strong winds that showed up announcing a storm was coming. When you start leaving the city, the only thing you see on our land is green, everywhere, and a lot of unknown fauna. Seeing the forest that sorrounds the roads is realising how necessary is to be a part of it again.

-Many memories- she used to say. And a lot of strong winds, too, when you come back to those place that once were but aren’t there anymore.