Lemons looking like grapefruits and oranges hang from the trees in the green of the courtyard and the aroma of citrus fills the air. Water and dappled sunshine. Peace. A hidden pool in a small stone cave, steps, ochre sandy paths, dense conifers, flat-topped, long fountains, pots of lilies, four italians cooing, "Bella, bella," and taking another photograph.
I left behind the slightly eery Royal baths, room after stone room, empty, unsettling to be alone in, underground, feeling that if the rooms continued to lead off one another, you could be lost, wandering around, forgotten, no-one knowing you were there and the lights going out. I didn't linger here. I've put them out of order. I saw them before strolling outside to the citrus filled Moorish Patio and sunshine. I lingered through the trees, stepping over fallen oranges, breathing in the scent of the air. And catching sight of flickering light on water.
And the tall cyprus trees, dark shapes against the blue sky and water, sun-kissed water. I don't want to leave here. It is so peaceful and summery warm sitting by the water soothing jets splashing down.
Light. Light bright and white and blue and green, changing as the sun hits the water and all the time, the deep green towers of solid foliage.
This place is good for the soul.
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