Today’s picture is an old one – in fact, it’s one I took several years ago when we were travelling in Spain. We’d found our way to a tiny little guest house along a winding dirt track. The route was marked by fading blue dots painted onto stones by the roadside, and we had to peer intently at the rocks through the undergrowth in the bleaching hot sun to spot them.
The slightly complicated journey was well worth it though, when we discovered the guest house itself, nestling at the end of a valley between the spurs of the surrounding hills, which curled out to meet it like long, slender fingers. This picture was taken on a walk a little further along the valley, and always reminds me of the sense of peace in the isolated houses tucked in between the trees.
In the hills of Spain.
