Spanish views from a small town

The Courel in Lugo is burning. The heart and lungs of this, our green Galicia, are being devoured by ferocious flames licking up ancient hills that, until now, were verdant and fresh. Entire villages, forgotten by most of their old neighbors, are now being erased completely, burned down to the bare stones. History, human and natural, is disappearing in the sparks of this hateful orange flower of flames. This fire, and another enormous one down near O Barco de Valdeorras, was sparked by lightning last week, during that freak thunderstorm that blew up over us thanks to the unusual heat we had. At least it wasn't started by a human piece of dung. But it was exacerbated by lackadaisical fire control and a lack of forest management that hasn't been in place ever since the way of life in the mountains started to disappear. Once, it was the people who subsisted in those villages who cut and trimmed and cleaned out deadwood. But, when they left for decent lives with decent jobs, no one...

Yesterday, we were making firewood, again. We had rented a slightly larger wood chopper, and my husband and two brothers-in-law were at the woodpile. Our daughter helped out, a bit. The final woodpile has grown some more. Just as they were about to begin after lunch, our daughter received a photo from a friend of hers, saying that a local cannery, Jealsa, in the parish of Abanqueiro, was on fire. It's right on the coast of the township of Boiro, on the shore across from Rianxo, and visible from just about anywhere on our estuary, the Ría de Arousa. In the photo, dark smoke was billowing out of a corner of a large sprawl of buildings. She went to a nearby lookout, and then I followed, admiring the cumulus clouds building behind the hills we can see from the front of our house. Today, rain was forecast, and some high clouds were beginning to appear. When I reached the lookout, the sight was apocalyptical. Those weren't cumulus clouds; they were the billows of smoke growing and pu...

Finally, the northeast wind has kicked in and summer is here. So, yesterday, beaches were filled with bodies soaking up the sun. So much so, that at one beach, people were turned away after 11:00AM.  When things were being prepared, some beaches were being sorted out so that distances would be kept between sunbathers. One beach decided to stick in wooden posts and tie ropes between them to section off enough of the sand to keep people well apart. People seem to have thought it was something like an art statement, for all the mind they paid it.  This week, some towns are going to use drones to check on how full the sands will be, and send in the police if people get too chummy. The interesting part is just how the police officers are going to request the new arrivals to leave.  In the end, the idea of setting up a web page to make appointments to go to the beach never went over well with most cities and towns. Each town decides the best approach for them. Sanxenxo tr...

Fire. Purification. Sympathetic magic. To the ancient peoples of Europe, lighting a bonfire at certain times of the year was a way to burn out the evil spirits and call back the power of the sun to warm the earth and make crops grow. The most important bonfir es were at Midsummer and Midwinter. But there were also bonfires at the equinoxes. T he G uy Fawkes bonfires in Britain in November could well be the remainder of the fall equinox bonfire. And the Fall a s in Valencia are probably the remains of the vernal equinox bonfires that used to stud the Medi terranean like so many stars. There is really no way to know how far back the Falles have always been celebrated. B ut I think it's sa fe to assume that the origin of this celebrat io n stretches back to the pagan celebrat ion of spring and the re birth of plants and trees. The earliest mention of it dates back to the Middle Ages, when carpenters used to burn leftover wood in the streets in fro nt of their shops on the feast ...