Day 22. Lockdown blog. 14/04/2020

GRANADA. Mixed Media on primed calico. 2005Image: Granada. Mixed Media on primed calico. 2005

At times like these we can reminisce about travel, remembering all the wonderful places we have seen and thinking about all those we will be able to visit when things get back to normal. The painting is of the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. The piece of writing is just an excerpt from one written in August 2005. It describes time spent in the stunningly beautiful gardens of the generalife on a very hot summers day.  

THOUGHTS ON THE ALHAMBRA.

Once upon a time when days were sweet as honey, children sat on the stone surrounds of fountains splashing their feet in the coolest of cooling waters. The gardens of Lindaraxa glowing with heavenly light, a heavy and all embracing light which danced through the lush green leaves to settle in glistening golden droplets on the raised cobble monsters and birds which hid themselves forever in the dappled walkways, just waiting for a chance to fly. 

Once upon this glorious sundrenched day the towers of the proud Alhambra raised their lofty peaks skyward to kiss the clouds, and challenge the Sierra Nevada in a close fought beauty contest which they were out to win. In shady porticos and ornate, geometric, ceramic lined spaces, through majestic halls and Moorish arches, the ghosts of harems fluttered, and the spirits of kings and princes floated unchallenged. Their muffled echoes reverberated around the marble, stucco and stone; sounds of distant voices woven with birdsong. 

As night began to lower its indigo sheet to cover the days fire, a silken shroud of yesterday’s enveloped this sacred place. The moons omnipresent melody played its timeless tunes, strung with gossamer strings. I heard the hypnotic low drumming of the warm breeze passing through tree branches and a strangely haunting chorus of crickets; at first quite dimly sensed, but growing clearer as the night descended. The ancient palace chorussed its lament as the fountains still played, adding their pizzicato footsteps to the wondrous orchestra of night. 

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