This story is about the future, but not a distant or imagined one. It is an immediate future, charged with the present. Turned into a verb, into an act of making. They are offshoots who are also their own mothers. Singular, yet multiple. Rooted and cloned. In the hills there are asturcones; in the distance, a bell can be heard. Branches appear, dressing doorways. May evil be driven away, may good flourish. A white cord binds fruits, branches, and bark. Protect us from our own breath. Each one weighs 100 grams. In the sea, sky, and earth. A cardiac arrest. Even if you are the tree of death, you will be brought back to life if you die.

In Sombra Larga, a toxic, sacred, and ancient tree is presented as a body around which rituals, beliefs, and conservation policies converge. The film approaches the ways in which one of these specimens is protected, both within institutions and beyond them. Through restriction, control, and, in some cases, anonymity, these practices gradually reorganize the relationships between bodies, landscape, and time.

Sombra Larga premiered at Hangar during Loop City Screen 2025 and has been screened at Documenta Madrid 2026.