I see the landscape through which I am walking. I distinguish the trees from each other. The path runs between them, and I stare at them, as if staring into a twilight that, when you look more closely, splits into trees, bushes, birds. I feel the roots through the soles of my shoes. I feel the softness of the moss, the pine-cones and the little stones.
Some people walk along a road, trudge across fields or splash about in water.
Others sit where they are and stare, and others again run, child-shaped, through the bushes. Each of us has our fate, even if we do not know it. I could have been born to sit behind a desk, to gaze at the room that opens out before me or wait for someone. Forever, and nothing else. I could have been born to run round a race-track or to sleep all my life.