Everytime I write one of these blogs it gets harder. It’s not as easy to find things to write about as it was at the beginning of the year. On the one hand that’s a good thing. It means that I’ve settled in here, that my surroundings aren’t as foreign to me as they used to be. But it also means I’m not noticing everything like I was when I first got to Córdoba. I notice the trees less, because I see them everyday. I notice the fountains less, and walk past them on the way to wherever I’m going without giving them a second glance. But I do keep talking to the houseplants that my host mom has in our apartment. Because when it gets quiet and I’m there all alone, they are the ones that keep me company.
When I started writing today, I was wondering what I would have to do to see this city through the same eyes as when I arrived. Now I realize that it’s not necessary. Coming to Spain was scary, everything was so different. Even though I noticed things more, it was often through a negative lens. I was missing the world I had left behind, and I still am. But I’ve gained a greater appreciation for where I am. I don’t always consciously take in the difference between the landscape here and the one I am used to in the United States. But that’s okay, because in the back of my mind, Spain’s nature brings me a quiet kind of reassurance that it simply did not before. It comforts me silently, and I feel much safer in Córdoba than I used to. I’m very happy to have found this peace. It’s not always obvious to me, but the signs are there. I’ve lost my fear and the Earth holds me.
On another note, I’ve been working on my final project for Paulson Study Abroad. For one of my classes in Spain, we visited the Doñana National Park and I got to see an amazing sunset over the ocean. I took a bunch of pictures of it and though it’s not exactly a perfect replication of what I’ve seen, I’ve been trying to draw it. I’ve also been thinking about how there are never words to describe the majesty of nature, so I started making these little designs that seem like writing but don’t really mean anything. They are words that capture the deepest truth, because they are never confined to the limits of human language.
When I do the Tanner presentation about my time here, I hope people will take away that nature is a safe haven. It will protect you and love you and make you feel whole again. Without you even asking.
