True story

A stupid chainsaw killed an old oak tree that was more than 80 years old on my street — a strong tree, a fighter that stood tall, offering protection and comfort to all the animals that sought shelter there.The small, broken-down house that leaned to one side, which that oak tree kept cool and shaded, also survived every storm and hurricane.No one could explain why, but now I understand when I see the tree is gone.Just looking at the empty space left behind makes me feel more confused and helpless.

A neighbor told me it was probably to sell the wood — and it’s a sad thing — the person who did it isn’t even the owner of that land.
I heard the loud noise of that terrible machine early in the morning and thought someone was mowing the lawn, until I looked out and saw the sad sight — the emptiness.

The first thing I thought of was the birds I used to see there every morning and afternoon from my rooftop, and the times I sat at the base of that oak to rest and try to take photos of them.
But now, as I write and let my thoughts flow, I am terrified to imagine the injury the oak must have felt and the pain it must have gone through.

Whether my neighbor’s theory is true or not, my sadness doesn’t stop now, because the damage has already been done.
Because I feel ignorance is like a disease that never stops spreading here, and that there are definite moments…

Just as that trunk fell and everything it stood for, other things around me are also falling apart.
And inside me too — yes, there are things falling as well.

I finished editing these photos while thinking about everything I’ve just told you… I took them yesterday during a quick visit to Old Havana.
They are simple images, nothing special, but they helped me deal with this moment of overthinking, and with missing what has gone forever and will never come back.