This part of Andaluciá moves to an older and simpler rhythm.
Come and visit was the invitation to my neighbor, good friend and village butcher.
What a magnificent sight as he rides up on his noble horse, loops the reins around a tree in my garden.
Spurs jangle over the lawn and his eyes crinkle to the humour of his face as he greets me.
Gaspar is a true man of the village of Facinas. Still living in the house he was born in.
We walk the meadow slowly as he tells me tales of local winds, farms and the way of the Dehesa.
Time stands still, there is no rush.
Facinas is a place I can finally call home.
Photo courtesy of the author.