Between a small town and a big city, I’ll always choose the latter, and I was a bit hesitant to leave busy, interesting Madrid for the relative nothingness of Candelario. I did find Candelario’s own magic, though, in its surrounding forests and mountains. The Sunday morning hike–perfect temperature, colorful wildflowers, only a small chance of getting poison ivy–really felt like something special. When our small group reached our destination, the “old bridge” and rocky riverside pictured below, sunlight filtering through the trees overhead, I actually felt the kind of serenity from nature that is oft-talked about, rarely experienced. Knowing I’ll probably never get to go back to Candelario makes the journey all the more precious, like one day, even if I can’t remember the village’s name, I’ll know exactly the feeling of its mountain paths and cool calmness.
