17/05/2026
The Man Who Still Walks to the Forest
He could have rested…
He could have left the land to time,
and surrendered the palm trees to the wind like many others did.
But this man,
every morning, carries his age on his shoulders and walks down to the forest.
He moves between the dust and the trees like a guardian protecting an old memory no one else can see.
His cracked hands are not just signs of exhaustion,
they are a map of long years of patience.
Every wrinkle on his face feels like a season he survived:
a harsh winter…
a thirsty summer…
and years spent fighting alone just to keep the orchard alive.
He cleans the palm trees as if he were caring for his own children.
He knows every tree,
which one is tired, which one needs more water, and which one only waits for a gentle touch.
He did not learn life from books,
but from the soil.
From the sound of the axe,
and from returning home exhausted… yet satisfied.
He is not just an old man in the forest.
He is the last generation that believed a man’s value lies in what he plants,
not in what he says.
And every time he walks back to his orchard,
the earth itself seems to whisper to him:
“As long as your heart remains here… we will stay alive.”
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