17/08/2025
My name is Diana and I'm the first generation of Bertyan in my family. My parents, with patience and love, taught my brother and me that nature is not just a place to be visited, but a home that is cared for. Today I am a natural environment engineer, I have worked in surveillance and fire extinction and I am a Natural Heritage Professor at the university of experience, something that few people know, and that is why I know first hand the relentless force of fire and the incalculable value of every square meter of forest that is lost. The Medules were a magical corner for us. There, as children, we ran among the chestnut trees as if they were protective giants, peering in awe into the galleries excavated by the Romans, and feeling that each path held an ancient secret. It was a place to play, to learn, and to dream, a piece of living history. If El Escorial burned tomorrow, the country would come to a standstill. Ministers, helicopters, and urgent promises would arrive. But when the flames devour Las Médulas, a World Heritage Site, what burns too is the dignity of this land... and barely a murmur can be heard outside El Bierzo. These days we have seen the fire swallowing centuries of history, whole mountains, humble houses, the livelihood of many 💔 families, friends who have lost years of work... Animals who have lost their lives to a monster who was moving forward without mercy. The smoke not only darkened the sky: it covered our hearts with an unbearable weight. This is not bad luck, it's POLITICAL MALA. It is the bitter harvest of decades of abandonment, of mountains left to their luck, of non-existent prevention plans and of forest management that only appears for the photo. They've turned our forests into dry fuses, ready to turn on with the first spark. The Bierzo bleeds silently. We are a forgotten region until the disaster is so big that it is impossible not to look at it… and yet, they look at it in a clock. The Medules were not just land and trees: they were part of our identity, our roots, our voice as a people. Today, by negligence and disinterest, we have been ripped off a piece of our soul. Burns our heritage, burns our memory, burns our land. And while those responsible are shielding themselves in the wind, heat or fatality. But no, fatality couldn't firewall, it didn't clean the mountains, it didn't cut into forest brigades. That was made by the invisible hand — and coward — of the INSTITUTIONAL leaveness. And now they're filling their mouth talking about helps... Without even making a minimum reference to people (many people) who are working tirelessly and under deplorable conditions, almost, almost, by will and entrenched. THANK YOU BY HIM. THANK YOU ALL AND ALL COMPANY AND COMPANY ❤️ The fire will pass, but the void will remain. And the hardest thing is to know that tomorrow, when another piece of our story burns, they will say again that “no one could foresee it.” And we, with a broken throat from screaming, will wonder if this land will have to burn in the whole so that someone can see it. Today the wave of the lake of carucede, crying tears of fire... I hope there's someone who listens to us... (You can share)from a woman that lives in the Bierzo region 😥
