Palm Trees in the Snow

by Luz Gabás

arrogance of inexperience.

“It must be stunning to see a volcano erupting,” commented Clarence, lost in thought. “I imagine it like an outpouring of passion. For a period it remains dormant, contained, hidden from the outside. The only one who knows how alive it is inside . . .”

She was tired, but in a good two hours, she could be in her village. She decided against it. She could not adjust so quickly, going from Iniko’s arms and the exuberant foliage of the island to the abrupt mountains of the valley in just a few hours. For an instant, she was jealous of the long boat journeys of the last century. The long days at sea inevitably gave the soul time to mend. It was possible to prepare for the next stage on life’s journey.

That the footprints of the people who walked together never, never fade away.