Abstract
When I was 13 or 14 years old, my parents, originally from Don Benito, a small city in the upper plains of Guadiana, decided to invest the inheritance of my maternal grandfather, who was a barber and cowboy, in the most northwestern mountain range of Extremadura: Sierra de Gata, Border land with Sierra da Estrela, in Portugal, and the Salamanca plateau. They planned, even in full performance of their professional duties, to grow old there, to close this process that we commonly call life.
Being there, in that supposed distance, seems to be a privilege today. By simply being, sitting next to an oak, that noble tree, as grandfather said.
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