Spanish views from a small town

Many, many years ago, about three years after getting married, my parents built this little house. Back then it was pretty much each house for itself in terms of services, so they had to dig their own well. They did so, a well about three meters deep, lined with the rock of the area, a soft sarsen which let the water through easily. There was no need to go deeper; in winter the well would spill over, and the water would run to the fields behind. In summer the water never disappeared. But water never disappeared anywhere in summer here. There is a reason we are a part of the "green Spain." Galicia is on the receiving end of North Atlantic storm systems, much like western Ireland. My husband says that during his childhood it would rain from September to May, with scattered showers in the remaining months. When we first arrived in 1991, we arrived to a year of drought. I remember well the advisories on the nightly news, especially affecting southern Spain, yet we also experien...

Tonight is supposed to be the most magical night of all the year. The day is looking mysterious enough with the enveloping mist quietly descending over all. But tonight, the Eve of Saint John's Day, witches are supposed to wander and magic is to be harnessed from both fire and water.  The practice of making bonfires is as old as the knowledge of fire. The ancients, conscious of the waxing and waning sun along the year, would light bonfires tonight to exhort the sun not to leave. At winter solstice, the bonfires were to ensure that the sun returned. That was, effectively, when the Light of the World was reborn. At St. John's, the baptism with water marked the maturity of the sun.  While bonfires have always been lit this night for magical and protective purposes, water has always been a part of this special day, too. Sweet-smelling herbs are to be collected today and put into a pail with fresh water. Tomorrow, after standing out all night, everyone should at least wash thei...