The route of the flamingos


The route of the flamingos.

The route of the flamingos.
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Just over 300 kilometers from the capital of Spain, at a point on the railway route that separates Madrid from Alicante, the bird It slows down as it passes through the Salobrejo lagoon, in Albacete, a natural space where bluebirds, stilts, avocets, a colony of baby seagulls, several dozen flamingos and other aquatic birds nest. Along with groups of malvasias, the flamingos with pink wings they play lame leg in sunsets that paint an explosion of colors poured onto an imaginary canvas at the whim of nature.

When crossing this point, the train slows down so as not to disturb the stilt inhabitants of that salty lagoon where the green and yellow of the cane fields converge, the ocher of the La Mancha agriculture, the peeling gray of semi-ruined houses where legends of knights also nest. andantes, innkeepers, hidalgos and teachers overlooking the bluest blue I have ever seen, bluer than the Mediterranean looming a hundred kilometers southeast of the lagoon. The sunset sun of La Mancha is in charge of illuminating this work of art of impressionist hyperrealism. I do not know what is more fascinating and hypnotic, if the overwhelming beauty of the wetlands or what a bug that displaces 447 tons at 300 kilometers per hour reduce to 90 so as not to disturb the peace of the place.

It is a journey that I have used to do every week for months. As I pass by, when the convoy circulates for a couple of minutes at tram speed, I interrupt the delight in such wonder for a few seconds to turn my gaze and see if someone else among the travelers is observing the same thing as me. The disappointment becomes the same after one trip after another, and then I look back at the pink fur of the flamingos, as if they had put it on the road for my eyes only, on the other hand lucky to enjoy it almost alone while I think how is it possible that most of the passage miss the entertaining spectacle of mistreating the neck joints with his gaze fixed on the mobile.

I confess that I could no longer live without him telephone, although sometimes I am discouraged to see that it can become an apparatus of the devil, an inhibitor of beauty in the same way as a tool to transmit Evil, with a capital letter, Evil in that sense that associates human behavior with acts that are considered harmful, destructive or immoral. The more time I spend on the phone, the greater the feeling that I am missing something. But if we stick to the biblical, and even legal, conception of Evil, I prefer to stay with the current based on the fact that the ultimate goal is its transformation into Good.

There are more and more citizen videos of extreme violence where they attack and even kill themselves for the pleasure of doing it, or out of hatred or because you know why, and we wonder how it could be that the author of the recording did not let one side his film director’s claims to lend a hand to the attacked, as has just happened, for example, with the lunatic who attacked a toilet in the metro Madrid. The person who recorded the scene did little to prevent the attack, but thanks to the fact that he did not dedicate the journey to observe the peasants or put his mobile phone in his pocket to avoid the incident, his images allowed the almost immediate capture of the author.

The truth is that in our imagination we have always thought that we would be the one to return that punch and then leave the wagon turned into a hero. But in violence, there are no heroes, unless you record the scene and get the bad guy. We wouldn’t even hit back. We are the one who receives it because that is the base of good people, in whose team the vast majority are active. That is why it is always one of our people who records the scene and records the fact for the authorities to act. Let’s also think that perhaps those who do not separate their thumbs from the screen during the more than two hours of a train trip, may be missing the flamingos from Salobrejo, But he can also become a prosecution witness of an assault because he is helpless without a hand on his phone.

In the era of technologies, on-demand entertainment and live information, the mobile It is not only a fundamental element, but it has become essential, which does not mean that it should become an addiction. There are already psychological offices specialized in treating patients hooked on cell phones, whose dependence can become as harmful as being addicted to gambling. It may not impair the physical and mental health, the pocket should not worry us either, but the habit of spending more hours than should in that magical and virtual world It should not take away the time that we should spend with the family, the couple, the work, the children or simply marveling at the birds in a La Mancha. Before and now, the destination is often the journey itself. Perhaps by not taking our eyes off the apparatus we are missing some of the most beautiful things in life.

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