healingwords: poetry for the soul

This little spring is known as the 'Font de Pascualet' and is just off the road winding up to the Penya Blanca near Benichembla. The water trickles out from a crack in the rock to gather in a small stone pool, still decorated with verdant green despite the July heat. 

Standing in the waves at the water's edge, lulled by the ebb and flow, the slow trickle as worries wash away into the salt sea. 

The swallow population is at its peak now with the fledglings all now gaining strength and joining their flock. At dusk and zone our house seems to be at the centre of a vortex of birds as they fly over the roof, skimming the terrace, whizzing past the front windows. There is a flock of maybe 50 or more birds and they swoop in formations of up to 10, missing windows and walls by mere inches. It is an incredible sight with the added benefit of clearing up the mosquitos before they bite! I have spent hours trying to capture them in a photograph, arms up until it makes me dizzy but the birds are too fast. I am left with a trace of their amazing flight as I gasp at the speed and agility. 

This seed head stood high above the low shrubs, waving in the breeze, the seeds looking like the yellow butterflies fluttering around the campo. 

This magnificent outcrop of rock tops the hills near the village of Benigembla, a short drive from my home. I took the photograph from the hills on the other side of valley, the road winding up both sides of the valley. The slopes below are covered in pine, the afternoon was a perfect combination of warm sun and cool breeze, the dirt track reminding me of walking on trails cut through the woods for power lines in British Columbia many years ago. 

Here is an amazing example of nature's incredible capacity for propagating life. It always cheers me to see tiny weeds breaking through concrete, trees hanging on to sheer cliff faces battered by winds.  Here these tiny succulents are colonising bare rock, with only a sprinkling of pine needles softening the hard stone. They looked like a minature grove of trees, their bright green leaves drawing the eye. 

I sometimes stop and really look at the nature around me, more often I take it for granted. When you actually look it is hard to believe the variety of flora and insect life visible in even a small area of landscape. On the hillsides overlooking the village spring flowers are still blooming after an unusual few months of frequent and gentle rain. It would be hard for an artist to imagine and paint the colours covering the land. 

This is the view this morning from the hillsides of El Carrascal, over the Vall de Pop towards the Mediterranean. It was a beautiful morning, full of birdsong, gentle sun before the heat built, wild flowers marking the path in shades of gold, purple blues and pinks. An exhilarating walk.

I came across this hidden, little patch of flowered green close to the dried river bed near my home. It looked like a perfect rock garden as if the succulents, grass, herbs and flowers had been planted around the rocks by an unseen hand. 

This beautiful holm oak is in the centre of a hidden grove of trees, protected by smaller oaks and brambles. Entering the grove feels like walking into the rarefied atmosphere of a great Cathedral, a sacred space of stillness.  I feel calmed and renewed leaning on the strong trunk, looking upwards through the canopy to the sky. 

May 20th is  World Bee Day, when we are encouraged to acknowledge the important role bees and other insects play as pollinators. The date was chosen in commemoration of the birth of Anton Jansa, the pioneer of beekeeping who was born on May 20th 1734. At a time when bee populations are threatened world wide by the use of pesticides, changes in habitat, global warming and additional viral infections it is important to consider the vital role they play not only in the natural environment but as pollinators for our agricultural crops. We can all help in a small way by allowing the growth of plants like dandelions, often treated as weeds, flowers and bee friendly plants in our gardens, stopping the weekly cutting of lawns and not using chemical insecticides known to harm bees and other insects. 

The hillsides in this area of the Marina Alta in Spain are all crisscrossed with narrow terraces, stone walls raised as the soil is cleared. They cling to the slopes and in many places are still planted with almonds, olives and grape vines. More are abandoned, especially those high up the hills with poor access. It is humbling to think how they were built hundreds of years ago, dating back to the Moorish population living on this land. They would have had just their hands and maybe donkeys to walk the hard paths up to the terraces, to take advantage of every metre of available land and make it productive. 

I spotted this giant grasshopper sat still on my patio. It looked lost and didn't jump away. The patio is enclosed within 4 steep walls so I have no idea how it arrived, maybe it was blown in on the wind. We carried it carefully back to the countryside where it shuffled away into the grass.  Grasshopper in Spanish is 'saltamontes'. I love this word, it literally means jumping mountains. I hope this prehistoric looking creature recovered its energy and was able  to jump mountains again. 

This photograph from early May last year reminds me that the hillside is greening, flowers blooming and the whiff of coconut blowing on the breeze from the yellow fuzz of gorse. The unexpected scent always makes me think of summer beach time and the pervasive smell of coconut oil in sun care products. Another week and I may be able to get out to see the countryside, if not the hills.