Sonorous Secrets

Every Tuesday and Wednesday, at 11:15 am, I take off for class going by the same exact route. That isn’t to say, I pass the same things every time. Though the path never alters the sights and sounds constantly do. Some mornings the Plaza de la Trinidad will be mostly empty, save for a sleeping man and a pigeon or 5, others it will be bustling with little old Spanish ladies buying their daily bread and weekly eggs at one of the many panaderías. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, there’ll be a musician playing his joys and tristezas for the love of music (and a few coins to help him or her onwards through life). Other times there will be lovers strolling through the city, holding hands, leaning on one another and every now and again a person will be meditating on one of the benches near the fountain or drawing a sketch or scribbling some words – poetry, stories, inner thoughts? I always wonder… - in a journal.

Then today, my class was cancelled and I decided to find a bit of sun to soak up. I ended up on the steps of la Santa Iglesia Catedral Metropolitana de la Encarnación, the great main cathedral in the center of Granada (built in three different architectural styles), overlooking an empty plaza (normally used for free concerts) and bordered by artesanías or Arab-inspired shops (they are all the same – scarves and shawls, the same brightly colored, striped purses, jeweled shoes like in Aladdin, earrings and other trinkets), cafés, and pastry shops.

(Unfortunately this isn't my own photo, with the limitations of my camera I find it impossible to get the entire building.)

But as I sat in the warm sol, the greatest pleasure was simply listening – listening to the enchanted music that defines and makes-up and is created by Granada. The narrow streets and enclosed plazas help the music of street musicians resonate throughout the city – a talented, one-armed man plays some sort of wind instrument – something like a black, thick, wooden flute and clarinet crossbreed – and accordion music drifts into the square from the opposite direction. Adding to this melody is the backdrop rhythm of the constant murmuring of a dozen different languages, a thousand conversations and the bartering of merchants and customers and the ever-constant noise of the construction sites – the drills and mixers and jackhammers – becoming something like percussion.

The feeling of absorbing the magic that I found in that spot, not only inspires me to come back over and over to my lovely Granada, but to also find those magic sweet spots in my own city, my state, and throughout the large country I call home.