Hive Creative Contest | [ESP/EN] A yellow waiting to be spied on - Un amarillo esperando a ser espiado

in The LIFESTYLE LOUNGE4 years ago (edited)

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(English bellow)

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Hola queridos amigos de Hive! agradecida de, una vez más, poder participar de las dinámicas de @zord189, dinámicas que me empujen a reflexionar un poquito más acerca de todo lo que veo desde que el sol sale, hasta que se pone.
Uno de mis pasatiempos favoritos, mientras impacientemente buscaba matar el tiempo en los viajes por carretera familiares, era espiar y adivinar colores. Hoy en día, me gusta pensar que esos carros rojos, techos grises, las paradas de buses azules y verdes montañas espiadas junto a mi hermana durante mi infancia mientras recorríamos el país, me ayudaron a ver mejor, con más detalle y una nueva paciencia, las distintas tonalidades de los colores que construyen mi entorno. Para mantener esa curiosa búsqueda en mi adultez, todavía intento pensar en un color antes de salir de la casa, y esta vez sola, buscarlo en todos los caminos que recorra durante el día, desde que salgo por la puerta hasta que vuelvo a entrar por ella.
Han sido unos días bastante nublados en Caracas. A pesar de ser un ciudad del caribe las nubes siguen llenando el cielo, y junto a ellas nos abraza una luz pálida, un tanto nostálgica. Tengo algunos días espiando con mi ojo lo que me rodea, y las vistas que la ciudad me ofrece en días grises. Sin embargo, el sol junto a su luz tropical ha decidido esconderse entre grises distintos. El Volkswagen amarillo que suele subir por mi calle, no ha vuelto a pasar. Las guacamayas caraqueñas continúan apropiándose de los cielos, pero el amarillo de sus plumas es menos amarillo y más arcoiris.
Hoy me rendí. Decidí dejar de espiar, quizás eso amarillo que tan desesperadamente buscaba, no quería ser espiado. Sin embargo asomada en la venta, justo en el momento en que dejé de buscar, ese amarillo se apoderó de mi vista, hasta ser lo único en lo que podía enfocarme: un planta que siempre ha estado allí, esperando, con sus tonos amarillos verdosos, a ser espiada.

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Hello dear friends of Hive! grateful, once again, to be able to participate in @zord189 dynamics that push me to think a little more about everything I see from the time the sun rises until it sets.
One of my favorite hobbies, while impatiently looking to kill time on family road trips, was spying colors. Today, I like to think that those red cars, gray roofs, blue bus stops and green mountains spied with my sister during my childhood as we toured the country, helped me to see better, with more detail and a new patience, the different shades of colors that make up my environment. To maintain that curious search in my adulthood, I still try to think of a color before leaving the house, and this time alone, looking for it in all the roads that I travel during the day, from the moment I walk out the door until I come back.
This have been some cloudy days in Caracas. Despite being a Caribbean city, the clouds continue to fill the sky, and with them a pale light that embraces us, somewhat nostalgic. This days I've been trying to spy with my eye in everything that surrounds me, and the views that the city offers me on rainy days. However, the sun with its tropical light has decided to hide itself among different grays. The yellow Volkswagen that usually goes up my street, hasn't been in this path lately. The Caracas macaws keep owning the skies, but the yellow of their feathers is less yellow and more something like a rainbow.
Today I gave up. I decided to stop spying, maybe that yellow thing that I was so desperately looking for, didn't want to be spied on. However, from my window, just when I stopped looking, that yellow took over my sight, until it was the only thing I could focus on: a plant that has always been there, waiting, with its greenish yellow tones, to be spied on. I don't know what type of plant it is, its needs or when it grew so much. However, I know that its vibrant hues have always been there, welcoming everyone who enters the building. Vibrant tones, that even on gray days, are capable of transferring me to the days when that same search for colors that I try to do alone today, dissolved time, distances and waiting.

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