Walking in the Sierra de Aracena a warm-up

Traveling is like bottling up all possibilities and releasing the cap: the best and worst things can happen in the same day . . . sometimes within the span of an hour.

We are here in the Sierra de Aracena because of Gigi. She wanted to visit a place where she could hike to a village that was inaccessible by car. After many hours/days of scouring I found some possibilities in this region that neighbors Portugal. When we arrived she was sick as a dog, the great news is that she has had a spectacular recovery. Yesterday, we ventured out on a short walk, her first look at the place.

 Earlier, some laundry (let's just call it an undergarment) had fallen off a chair, later, when we looked for it, it was gone. We guessed a dog had taken it since there are at least 5 dogs that live on the property.

When you travel for a long time each article of clothing means A LOT- especially those things that go underneath your clothes! It seemed a tragedy yet a silly thing to be thinking about as we set out.

. . .Across a small bridge with our trusty companion 'Abo' which is short for 'abandoned'-- this dog will get his own post soon he is sooooo special.

Past the 'molino' or old mill that is now home to our Dutch hosts, Peter and Monica. 

They restored the old mill when they moved here nearly 15 years ago; it sits above rushing water in the divot of a beautiful valley. It's the type of property you believe only exists in your imagination or in literature.

We walked surrounded by cork trees, chestnuts, moss and shale; always with the river snaking along on one side of us.

The trees were magnificent.

We passed an 18th Century 'molino' (today we crossed the creek and got a closer look, more another post). I knew history was sinking in because Gigi said perhaps the Romans had built something there first that was replaced by the Moors and then built upon again more recently to resemble what it looks like today.

It is winter and as the local have told us, 'this is as cold as it gets'--- it was like springtime in Tucson.

There wasn't a soul around except for Gigi and I and our two trusty dog companions. The sound of the water and the green of the moss conjured up images of leprechauns. 

Turns out Celts walked these parts. Tomorrow we'll visit ruins and a massive cave in nearby Aracena. When Rick and I first saw the mountain on and within they reside we said, 'We're in Ireland!' 

On the left in the picture below is a stone table built for walkers to stop and rest or catch a bite. Beyond it a small creek flows magically out of the thicket. The area is a reserve teaming with walks.

The rocks were as beautiful as the trees and the water.

I am beaming because I am so happy to be spending time alone with my 11 1/2 year old daughter. We have laughed so hard we have had to wipe away tears at different times during the trip; I am haunted by the 'busyness' I remember of our life back home and what seems like endless driving.

We have to turn back earlier than we want because Gigi has been bedridden for days and we have 5 people waiting for us back at our casita. Abo cheerily retreats from his path and does an about face wagging all the same.

Shortly around the bend pictured above I will fall hard on a mossy boulder. So hard that I hear a crack and worry I have broken my elbow. Gigi is a rock as always and we joke and continue walking back because there is no other thing to do. We laugh when I mutter gripping her hand hard, 'Well an hour ago I thought having my underwear stolen was the worst thing that would happen to me today.'

I will wish on every single step back for nothing more than to be ok: to be able to play foosball with J, to lift Baby-O, to not be a burden to the rest of our group. Most of all, I want for the trip not to be 'ruined.'  

We find out that the nearest x-ray machine is 45 minutes away. We decided to do what anyone in their right minds would do- we went to lunch. We had a terrific time and the kids tried all sorts of exotic cheeses and J discovered he liked pate. He went on to devour a dessert made of figs, chestnuts, walnuts and cream. We are beaming about what courageous eaters they have both become.

My elbow is not broken. Today I took the time to walk the kilometer and a half to town on an old trail with my 70 year old parents. 

Arriving.

The trusty Abo has come along, it no longer surprises us.

We walked past pigs (the Ibericos). 

 Past cork trees. 

 The lunch is terrific (the family that runs it equal parts interesting and spunky as is there food) as usual and so was my parents' company.

Abo will model patience. Can you see him waiting?

  We have four weeks to go.

 I hope I remember the crack of that fall every single day. It is the sound of remembering what is important.

"When I Am Among the Trees"

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness,
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."

~ Mary Oliver ~

                                                          (Love to you Lee from Spain!)

Oh, the garment? The kids were in hysterics when Rick reported this morning that he had found them impaled in a bush. I needn't have worried.