Beneath the arching branches a wild tale has been written in the fine dry dust.
Innumerable spoor are strewn across the parched earth; boar, deer and genet have sought the dense shade as have many species of tiny birds.
Above this feral calligraphy the branches reach out with all of their senses, listening for the far off sounds of thunder echoing along the valley walls.
The late summer is a time of waiting, here in the Dehesa.
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Photo: Acebuche at Saladaviciosa. Courtesy of the author.