Here in the balmy lee sits a tangled tropical forest, fed by hidden springs it is rich in life and form.
For millennia this sheltered wood has been a gentle place of retreat for all life, including of course our Sapient kind.
The rocks are marked with the calligraphy of ages, some from the hand of Gaia herself and others the result of the cunning minds of our ancestors.
These caves and ledges, tombs and bowers tell an eloquent tale of time. They are filled with the jetsam of empire and the dried up and pounded bones of hunter and prey.
In this long reveal, the rocks have abided, sitting Buddha like above the human dramas played out at their feet.
Fools and dictators, saints and heroes have walked these trails, yet the rocks just are, smiling with their own geologic enlightenment.
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Photo: The southwestern flank of Betis. Courtesy of the author.
