My wife and I had a late dinner tonight on a Barcelona square, site of a grim atrocity of the Spanish Civil War: a Francoist bombing of a church and orphanage. 1/2 en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pla%C3%A7…
Over the 90 minutes or so that we sat there, young couples strolled into and out of the square, perching on the rim of the fountain in the center for make-out sessions. One couple passionately kissed for almost half an hour, blind to all the rest of the world. Life is strong. 2/2
Same square tonight: a busking guitarist interrupted his performance to teach two little boys how to strum some chords; two intensely nervous gay teens strolled in, paused at the fountain, grasped hands, strolled out. 3/3
My wife compares the square to an opera stage set: one exit stage right, one stage left, a fountain at stage center, and amazing acoustics from the reverberating stones.
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