Photo by © Brandon Elijah Scott It was 2013, I was in beautiful Granada, Spain. It was the second week of my nine month backpacking trip across Europe. I wrote in a notebook as I watched. The original was published in May 2013 on my old travel site, Eye & Pen. I've touched it up a bit, truth be told. I hope you enjoy.
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I sit along the ancient stone wall of the bustling plaza, with one leg draped on either side. The Alhambra looms overhead, casting a dull shadow over the stream below. The sun warms my back and the light breeze soothes its hot sting. My eyes flit from here and there, following the playful birds soaring and owning the skies. Oh, the skies. So beautiful, the blinding lustrous blues and the occasional white splotch of hanging cloud. The sounds of the river flowing below me mix wonderfully with the smooth picking of the woman's guitar. Two dogs sit at her feet, listening peacefully. One with various shades of black with orange brown, and the other is golden. They flick their tales at flies, and their eyes are shut, each lying on their sides, soaking up the sun.
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I sit along the ancient stone wall of the bustling plaza, with one leg draped on either side. The Alhambra looms overhead, casting a dull shadow over the stream below. The sun warms my back and the light breeze soothes its hot sting. My eyes flit from here and there, following the playful birds soaring and owning the skies. Oh, the skies. So beautiful, the blinding lustrous blues and the occasional white splotch of hanging cloud. The sounds of the river flowing below me mix wonderfully with the smooth picking of the woman's guitar. Two dogs sit at her feet, listening peacefully. One with various shades of black with orange brown, and the other is golden. They flick their tales at flies, and their eyes are shut, each lying on their sides, soaking up the sun.
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