15 February 2012

Them Thar Hills

If this blog were a sign on a doorknob, it would say something like:


because, yes, I have packed up my belongings, wrapped them in a large white handkerchief on the end of a stick, and am now off down the road, the very long road, to more southern climes. 

This is my annual trek to a wonderful village in the mountains of southern Spain where I shall be staying for a week in the home of a gifted artist friend.  In that magical space I shall be working on my novel, banishing cobwebs and seeking new inspiration.

What I love about mountains is that they:
  • clear the head
  • pose an eternal challenge
  • provide uncontested grandeur
  • invite ever-changing plays of light
  • point to the heavens
  • yet are a solid anchor  
  • need to be approached with respect
  • remind me of my own insignificance

I may also have the chance to sit and contemplate this river you can see below, listen to its song, enjoy its haste, wonder at its purpose.  This very river once stole a pair of prized walking boots of mine but that, as they say, is another story...

The region I am visiting is the Alpujarras, made famous by the writer Chris Stewart in his book Driving Over Lemons

It is also home to the extremely perceptive writer and artist Meg Robinson.

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