If we were to ask which of the four concerts they love most is that of the “four seasons” of Vivaldi, the answers would give them on an equal footing, half the spring and the other half the fall. However, the balance would be made in favour of spring, perhaps because it was the most heard.

Yes, spring is closer to the dark and cold winter – it seems that, like the music of Vivaldi, we have already heard it more – and who does not want to heat the heat and the luminosity of the new sun. In addition, nature, which slept deeply, has also begun to awaken and feels the atmosphere of a new breath. Heat and humidity drown us many times, but that's better than the cold winter. Spring is like cold sweat going off when we start climbing a mountain, but the mind is getting to the top. We still have a long way to go to the top, a long summer under the blazing sun, but we arrived.

And what's the top? Autumn. The germ that emerged in spring has to become a plant, flourish and bear fruit. Autumn is waiting for fruit harvesting. Spring is the birth, summer the tour and autumn the maturity, the fruit. Of course spring and fall are related, they are two different concerts of the same play. There is no autumn without spring, a lot of scarves of autumn barely spring.

Human beings also have on our route spring, summer and fall – even though winter is its charm, we associate it more with the body and we should also talk about it – and we always remember it when we arrived in autumn. But even then, we prefer to talk about youth rather than old age.

It is true that those who are portrayed and going from age always tell us about youth. No matter how we are with those of the same age, we don't usually count the times, the ages, the ups and downs, we always think of those of youth. Questions of school, military service, parties, etc. are issues that are dedicated to the conversation of the elderly. Moreover, it goes without saying how many accounts are repeated in a short time. Once from a certain age the same jokes are always counted.

It's always sad to look back. The past passed and the occasional false memories – I say false, memories are never, say, and real, just. It manipulates ourselves – even if they are necessary, we stand in the present and immerse ourselves in the world of the sensations and experiences of the fall of life, because it is nice to collect the ripe fruits. Isn't it that we don't want to admit our age to what we always want to live in our youth?

I recently had a dream. I was on a street when I saw a huge excavator coming up the street. He took the whole street with the wide blade that he had in front of him. I started to feel worried and I looked sideways again to see if I had room to leave. I immediately understood that I didn't have a slot machine, and I looked again to find out if I had any chance of escaping. The street background was a spacious and clean solid wall frontis, without holes. With the immense shovel, whose teeth were crawling down the ground, I saw the excavator coming closer and closer, and in his anguish, from one side to the other, I didn't know what to do. Suddenly it occurred to me to put myself in the shovel and not take me against the wall. So I did, but I was able to see in big characters the writing of the excavator at the time I entered the shovel: AGE.

When we talk about the fall of life, we express maturity, the time of fruit harvesting. The autumn that brings the age is colorful, quiet, intimate, it is time for thought and reflection. Don't be afraid of age, instead of leaving for it, and you don't have escapes, go in, come in and calm down the fall.

Iñaki Lasa Nuin