GOATS, CARPETS & CHIMNEYS
In the hill-top towns that crown the mountains in the Kingdom of Spain, the villagers live rich lives of quietude, interrupted only by the occasional festival.
SMALL WONDERS OF THE MOUNTAINS
The overwhelming joy in my heart when we entered the mountains - like a feeling of coming home. I was finally able to see further, breath deeper and take in all that blue sky.
That day was like a cat, asleep in the sun: warm, and relaxed.
A teensy Catholic shrine, the gate laden with roses, prayer beads and ceramic figurines.
The many orange sellers, sat by the roadside with bags of oranges piled high on the bonnet and sides of their cars.
A beer in the gardens of Casa de Pilary Paco Lopez.
The abundance of prickly pears that grew on the cacti, up there in the high places.
The whitewash and the clay chimneys on the small mountain houses. Each one reflecting the glare of sun, making the villages gleam from afar.
The insistence of the carpet sellers.
A shepherd tending a flock of goats with bells on.
The complete silence that descended at the Siesta hour. The only sound is the flap, flap of a woven curtain hanging in a doorway.
A little wooden door, charming beyond belief. Behind it: Pepe the Jamón seller, who proceeds to show me how to carve a giant leg of ham.
A circle of elder villagers watching a young boy kick a deflated soccer ball.
In a courtyard lined with lavender bushes, a small fountain trickled water - just one of the many fountains that flow with medicinal spring waters in the area.