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I had been trying to come up with an idea for the WA blog for days. Alas, to no avail. This morning panic started to set in which only made the thinking process more difficult. My creative writing state has been comatose for weeks and I had hoped the adrenalin would flow under the pressure of being this week’s author of the blog.
At four p.m. the other half decided a stroll to El Castillo would be a good idea. The Castle, easily reached by car, requires a more complicated walk. Said castle is actually a modern bar, built overlooking the dry Rio Almanzora. As I wasn’t coming up with any good ideas, I stemmed the frantic feeling that I was running out of time and wouldn’t get anything posted and set out.
We walked off road and onto the rough path that would take us across the dry river bed, through both wild growth and cultivated orchards. As we rambled, the wild flowers, or often weeds, spangled the ground with pinks and purples, reds and yellows. I gazed around me and it hit me that it is ridiculous to have a shortage of ideas when I have such glorious scenery everywhere I look.
Here I was, wandering through groves of oranges, pears, olives and almonds. A variety of birds were flying overhead, some swooping low enough for me to see their markings, before one again darting upward into the blue sky. They were performing an aerial ballet.
Ahead, El Castillo loomed, built high on huge yellow boulders.
Once seated on the terrace, I could see for miles, along and across the Almanzora Valley. The mountains were like cardboard cut-outs against the backdrop of gathering clouds. Old cortijos and new villas nestled in the valley, at peace with one another. I heard children’s voices, the clip-clop as a white stallion came into view, and the slow chug of a tractor as a local farmer wended his way home.
An elderly Spanish man passed the time of day with us, leaning on his gnarled walking stick. His two small dogs gently nuzzled our hands. It’s strange - the older Spanish people are generally small and their canine friends are the same - you seldom see a large dog.
And suddenly, I had my topic. I would recount my experience - the realisation that there is, literally, everything to write about. I feel as if I’ve been in limbo for so long and that simple trek was an awakening.
I’m sorry this blog is not about a specific area of writing or skill development in any way but I genuinely feel alive and ready to write again. No bad thing, eh?
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