Two forces to drive it: one up, to reach the sky, one round, to circle the world.
These forces make it solid like a guardian, round like the time. Sentinel of a black and white desert, it is always in the present, and at the same time in memory. It is devoid of aridity, living in repetition, overlapping and blurring the seasons.
This is CACTUS.
Beyond the pungent smell, the sunny pastures, the low bellowing.
Beyond their names, their job, the time spent taming them.
Bent backs, curved horns, the heavy bell as their voice – unique, unmistakable.
You only need this to caress one, to breathe in their gentle souls, and to recognize their chant.
This is BOE.