They sprout. In the wastelands against the hammering of buildings that are always under construction, between granite walls, cement and sheet metal with rust, moss and cats; on the hillside between the train and the river, next to the traffic on the highway, in front of the metro, vegetable gardens sprout up. In this city, the choreography of ancient gestures of cultivating the land is repeated day after day, without fail. Sowing, digging, harvesting, watering, eating, talking, resting, coming back the next day and restarting the discreet gestures of resistance.