Gods and glass

 Hello.

 This is going to be a more lyrical, abstract post than usual, to fit the events it describes. I hope you enjoy it.

 One night I leave home as Two Gods are rising, silent and wise. Venus, Goddess of Beauty and Love. Jupiter, God of Sky and Lightning. Gods of all that night is.

 I scamper up into the Old Town. It greets me as usual, lit and alive. During the day it is so beautiful, so fascinating, yet one moment of noche salamantina eclipses all of that.

 Across the Anaya Square, green and waiting, lanterns beckon, like fairies of the night. Kind or sinister, or both, it's hard to tell. But I must follow.

 They lead me down to the base of the mountain; the bottom of the walls of the city. I will look up, I know, and I will see the Casa Lis, all green and yellow and orange, and I shake with fear and delight. 

 And there it is. Almost like a person, a being, so powerful and real. Breathing.

 She perches on the edge, the Queen of Salamanca.

 The Gods are still watching; they have followed me and guard me. They will not leave as long as I may need them. Above is Regulus, the Prince and the Heart of the Lion. The Summer Star.

                                      

                              

 Blinded by Gods and glass I turn reluctantly away and walk down past shields and lavender to a poet, singing of the river and the wall and the olive trees.

 From the Convent to the Cathedral I go, back from that powerful realm of green light to the ordinarily extraordinary Salamanca night. 

 Then to the edge of the city I run, to where I always stand and where I always see the constellation I cannot identify, the Little Leo as I call it. Later I will search star maps, desperate to find its name. 

 Eventually I decide it is probably Scorpio plus Saturn, making one of the stars Antares, the Autumn Star. Two Royal Stars and three planets in one night: Salamanca's sky is indeed rich. I can understand why Fernando Gallego saw fit to paint it.

 I look around for reassurance, one last time, before leaving. To my side the eternal Casa Lis juts out, a green angel with wings spread wide, over the river, facing the stars.

 Thanks for reading,

 Liz x