I have fallen in love with solitude, old stone churches, cow bells. Fog over mountain peaks. The vista changing with the wind. Clear cold air, colder water flowing from a rocky spring. You can see where it sprung in the cracked face of the mountain before you.
Coming to Vall de Boí, another piece of myself clicked into place, the piece that loves quiet and natural splendor and old mountain villages with nothing but church bells and cow bells and little grocery stores with sugar bread wrapped in brown paper, twisted at the ends to keep the sweetness in.
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