Chereads / The tornadoes of Mirídia. / Chapter 33 - Rayito de Sol.

Chapter 33 - Rayito de Sol.

The delusions of that poet were carried by the wind to the Moon Mountains, where a nymph emerged from the crystal clear waters of one of the lakes that lay, in that set of mountains that surrounded a valley, a beautiful valley full of circular and independent lakes, as if in lunar craters the waters of those lakes were deposited, Dressed in long looms that dragged on the ground as if they were made of seaweed, she stopped before entering the gallery where was going, for a sound carried by the wind to her ears, caught her attention and attentively the nymph listened to each and every one of the words in verse that the wind carried her; Rayito de Sol was a water nymph, beautiful she with long straight hair of dark blue and black tones, she lived in the lakes of the south of that valley and loved the art of painting, she spent her life painting landscapes that she had seen and some that she imagined, Her look was sad and her skin brown, whenever she painted something looked disappointed at each of her works, because she could not print in her paintings the sadness and nostalgy that she intended to express in her work, that personal mark that each artist seeks to leave in each of their works, when listening to that voice that seemed to come from everywhere, she set out to paint a picture inspired by those sweet words carried by the wind, she drew the sands of a desert, large dunes as if they were the waves of a raging sea, where a solitary being simply walked under a hot summer sun, although his eyes and face were not seen, he gave the sensation of looking towards a distant horizon, towards an uncertain destination, the feeling of being looking or waiting for someone, of being tired, Although his silhouette did not look like that of an old man, although his mouth was not visible, it was not difficult to think that this man walking in a desolate desert was not smiling.

the man was naked, as his soul was naked at the time of writing those songs that the wind had stolen, carrying them to the shores of a strange and distant lake; Rayito de Sol spent a long time working on her painting with great enthusiasm, so many that she would have been able to paint one by one, each of the grains of sand of that desolate landscape, and when she finished she discovered enraptured that she had finally managed to paint what she wanted, a picture that reflected nostalgy in a landscape Desolate and sad, with opaque nuances that gave the exact touch to that painting so long imagined, so long desired, she was observing it for a long time without daring to retouch it, admiring her work and smiling happily for having achieved it at last, and she was all night aware of the sounds of the horizon, awake, hopeful in the arrival of other words in the wind to feel inspired.