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Carlos Villar Esparza: Westwards

By February 12, 2019 February 7th, 2020 No Comments

Only when the rain falls again and fills the pools in the olive grove, will the frogs return to sing for the setting sun and to tempt the moon.

They say that you must always travel westwards, towards the end of the world, until you reach the Campomontiel “finisterre”: and there the traveller will discover a marvellous land. From this place, the traveller will be able to contemplate, along the edge of the horizon and its back, the top of our world, Cabeza de Buey.

In this unknown place, a land which is drought-ridden and harsh, there is a great olive grove where, during nights of a full moon, the olives suspended in the branches are transformed into tiny silver fruits.

Furthermore, when the magic olive grove on occasions endures big storms or violent, forbidding clouds, so much water falls that the land is exhausted, cries out “enough” and is reshaped into small plains and valleys where pools form and overflowing water runs, and it is at this moment that an extraordinary event takes place, at the hour of the brilliant sunset. At these moments and in this visionary landscape frogs begin to appear, frogs, more frogs…many frogs who begin to group together to croak, in a chorus aimed at the sun which in turn becomes languid and seems to begin to move in shame. Dozens, hundreds of frogs have arrived from who knows where, and this drunken bacchae possessed by the passion of the sun never stop the frenzy of their farewell songs of love.

But it turns out that frogs are traitors and changeable, for as soon as the full moon appears they change the object of their affection and the sonorous singing, and now the babbling flirtations are all for her, she who illuminates mankind with the light of the dead.

This phenomenon lasts as long as the tiny pools of water, when these evaporate, they disappear, and with them the invasion of frogs. They say that they return to their subterranean territories in search of the escaping humidity. Only when the rains fall again and fill the pools in the olive grove, will the frogs return to sing for the setting sun and to tempt the moon.

This fantastic land with its mystical olive grove is much like the island of San Borondon, many travellers claim to have seen it happen in other places.

It is real truth that to contemplate the setting sun together with the singing of frogs is an experience that truly builds the foundations of character.

Carlos Villar Esparza