🌳✨ There are places I’ll remember all my life

Dear reader,

Today, as I look through old family photos, I'm transported back to the most special moments of my childhood. Those memories, filled with natural landscapes, sunshine, and wildflowers, hold a dear place in my heart. Floresta, a beautiful spot by the Atlantic coast, 50 km from bustling Montevideo, was our retreat—a place of love and connection with nature.

The house in Floresta had a rich history, originally belonging to my grandparents and later becoming my mother's playground. It was quite different from our apartment in downtown Montevideo, and escaping there every weekend with our faithful companions, Dolores the cat, and Tacuna the dog, was pure life.

The rituals we had were etched in our hearts—singing in the car, gathering the essentials for the "asado," and picking up my granny along the way. Driving at 60 km per hour might seem ordinary, but it carried the anticipation of the wonderful times awaiting us. Little did I know that these small rituals would become the foundation of who I am.

As soon as we arrived, Dolores and Tacuna would explore the woods, probably having their own little adventures. Meanwhile, I'd immerse myself in the beauty of nature, looking for the latest additions to the seasonal wildflower bouquet—pink-sorrels, freesias, and many others whose names I can't even recall. I'd also observe the ants' activities throughout the week and climb the Chinaberry tree to get a better view of everything, trying to go a little higher every weekend as the branches were growing stronger.

Everything would come to a stop when it was time to light the fire for the asado. It was the slowest-cooking ritual, and in the meantime, we'd greet neighbors and friends who came to share the meal with us or just say hi. Some of the best memories were made during these gatherings. Then there were siestas, biking, exploring places, listening to soccer matches in the car and having a siesta at the same time... And when it was time to head back to Montevideo, we'd collect loquats from the backyard and call for Tacuna and Dolores to leave their wild moods behind and return to their domesticated selves—a bit of a challenge sometimes. I'd often fall asleep in the car as the sunset faded into night, driving along the busy Sunday road back to the city.

Looking at these photos today, I realize they are more than just pictures; they anchor me emotionally to my foundations. As Tara Brach says, pain often comes from forgetting, but these memories captured in the photographs serve as a backdrop for my emotional journey. They remind me of the simple joy and playfulness I found in nature, fulfilling my heart completely. In the midst of our fast-paced lives, these anchors remind me of what truly matters.

The lessons I learned during those days in Floresta go beyond flowers and nature. They taught me the joy of sharing emotions and experiences with friends and family. My parents made it a priority to create these photo memories for my brother and me, knowing that they would become cherished treasures shaping our lives, even after they passed away a long time ago.

Floresta will forever remain in my heart as the purest connection, and I am grateful to my family for nurturing my appreciation of what truly makes life meaningful.