At the beginning of December 1998 I traveled with my partner to the Ciscar forest, located two or three kilometers from Agramunt in Lleida. He knew that in these places many families had taken refuge during the bombings suffered in the civil war.
The fog, very thick, prevented us from orienting ourselves through the labyrinth of roads. The horizon was like a bluish gray theater curtain.
I walked under a tree. The wind made the drops fall from the leaves. "It's raining under the tree." It only rained under the trees that day. We saw several hawks, or maybe it was the same. We come across some partridges that we photograph. I found a fan, a brass bucket, a coffee maker, a thermos, an iron, a goat's skull ... and I piled them on a round table that, when I rescued her from the ground, I needed to place it on my head as protection.

Towards Capella Canosa, we discover a huge sedimentary rock along the path. With the ax, I drew a scar on her.
Once in Capella Canosa, I discovered a dead pine tree that I covered with a red and purple scarf.
We were also at the gates of the Ciscar forest, very marked by two monoliths with an inscription on each: "BOSCH DEL" "CISCAR". I drew a line with the ice ax and joined the two monoliths.

At home, in the car, I thought about the experience. The intimacy that the fog gave us, the feeling of total isolation. We stepped on history and saw a horizon we could touch, a gaseous curtain in the theater of nature.

We left the place without a panoramic view. Only rain under the trees, ocher lands underfoot, fleeting birds, plastics and brass.

(Thinking of the town of Agramunt and Guinovart, 1998)

Manuel Morales Espinosa / Obras Manuel Morales