I 'm walking between a long hedge on my left, and, on my right, a fence that separates me from the railroad.
Beyond the rails: other groves, fields, forests, endlessly it seems. But I can't go there.
On this path, as everywhere else, I am blocked, a prisoner of marked paths; simple corridors from which I cannot leave and which reduce the essence of the landscape, the essence of the world, to just a decor.
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