Paradoxical

I once made a wonderful trip.

I did not solo (many others joined me too), although it was a personal journey... And this was a great paradox.

I felt that many of those who were alone traveling the same road, they also felt they were very close to each other.

But, one of those people, however, made ​​me step out of line. Why? ... Only it happened.

I photographed her for miles. Almost, it was a small, frail figure by between a landscape of extreme grandeur and great beauty.

Always her back: The backpacker.

For many days we share a common space painted en yellow between rocks. A community in a straight line: The Way.

Then, in the midst of that routine (another paradox), there intervened luck, perhaps fate. Helped openness and closeness of years beating my proverbial shyness or generosity. Intervened many things at once. A microcosm of possible facts, launched our future vacuum in minutes.

There wasn't another chance, life is not going to give.

It happened, we decided: Two hours together.

Afther that, we created the most beautiful of the many paradoxes of this wonderful story: she left, for never to separate us.
D.