But the rain has come at the end: How to hold Euskal Herria so green, if not,” they say. And he really has it. But in our mother's country, the earth acquires a dark tile color when it rains, as if it wasn't very clear what it's made of: tiles by land or tiles. Green meadows are found only in the scarce artificially irrigated artificial parks, and the thick reddish barrels of winter turn into yellowish powder for the summer season. Sometimes only the great river and the lush fruits of the red orchards seem green.

When we sing “I like it, I like our corners, when I hide the brumas…”, what exactly are “our corners”? How many people remember a set of summits or hills at dawn, in view of a thin sheet of fog? And how much does the thick fog of that Ebro that descends, caressing violently, the entire southern border of Euskal Herria come to mind?

I am referring to the homogenised geographical imaginary of Euskal Herria, but in part it has brought me a partial imaginary about the heterogeneous political situation of Euskal Herria: namely, the fact that in the light of last month’s elections in the Spanish State some Basques said, euphoric, trifachito, that we did not obtain a representative in the CAV (later). Perhaps some of us have to decide whether or not we really are Navarre; Navarre, with its contrasts: That Navarre that has supported Bel Pozueta, and that Navarre that has returned to the chair of mayor of the capital, Enrique Maia, and that Navarre that has given more than 10% of support to Vox in some municipalities. I have once heard some people in the Ribera say, jokingly, that they look more like the Aragonese than the Navarros beyond Pamplona, and I have often heard the Navarros beyond Pamplona that are clearly distinguished from the Southern Navarros. It's a reality. As a reality, many Basques say “we are all Navarros” but taking Navarre as an idealized distant symbol, almost as some men say “we all love the mother”.

And what about the gulf that exists between that very eastern North and that very western South. Well, we're there for each other, we're there for each other, we're there for both. We are so far away from each other, that we hardly have that stupid competition among the nearby villages: the Guipuzkoans of the Meaplaya coast, those of the north of Navarra robasetas to the Guipuzkoans, all arrogant to the Bilbaínos, all to the Alaveses pateros, all to the Donostiras ñoñostians, and so ad infinitum. We in the South, as far as I am aware, do not have such foolish rivalries and, on the one hand, thanks to those of Iparralde, but on the other hand, that vacuum also shows remoteness, inequality.

I do not pretend (I am not misunderstood) that this absurd competition between territories is seen as something positive, nor that nobody is called to account: it is normal for everyone to know their environment much better and, to some extent, it is normal for people in the most populated areas to expand further. But those of us who talk about a certain unity, we may have to do a little bit more to recognize each other or, rather, to fully recognize ourselves beyond idealizations, topics and condescension.