Just a little Garden.

I've found my place in this world, physically speaking, my cornucopia of calm, my palace of peace, my pool of tranquility. A place where my mind is at ease and my body and soul are balanced. No cathedral can compare with how much this place makes you feel aware than everything is right and good, and that no matter how far you wander this place will always shine with benevolence and beauty.

This place is the Garden of Calixto and Mebilla. The Lover's garden, and being a hopeless romantic and somewhat selfish fool, my garden. The backstory is as brilliant as the unmistakeable beauty of it's physical appearance.

Fernado De Roja wrote a novel reveled as the “Romeo and Juliet of Spain,” called The Story of Buen Amor, or La Celestina. It's weaves the web of two lovers, Calixto and Mebilla. Calixto falls into love with Mebilla and is instantly shot down, a feeling many of us gentleman know well. He wants her badly and his servants suggest that he goes and speaks to an old Matchmaker called “La Celestina.” Interestingly enough she owns a brothel as well, which I guess is probably a bit more profitable than her matchmaking service based on how the story turns out. Another servant cautions Calixto, telling him that the Celestina is a cheat and a lie, and warns him to avoid her. The Celestina hears of this and lures these naysayers in with the promise of wine, women, and good times. Good times do occur, and the servants shut up. Oh the power of the fairer sex.

Well, The Celestina decides to rock and roll over to Mebilla and the lovely lady rejects the match, but then Celestina whips out some jewelry, and funny enough Mebilla falls madly in love with Calixto. Oh the power of wealth and money.

By this time La Celestina has aquired some serious cash flow from Calixto, The naysaying servants and pretty prostitutes want to be paid for their role in the swindle. Of course the greedy grandma, La Celestina, does not want to share. Thus, Calixto's servants kill her. Of course, like always, the authorities show up and not wanting to face punishment, Calixto's servants depart from this world out a window a couple stories to high.

The servant's prostitute lover's then become angry with Calixto because apparently this is all his doing and now they have no love... or money. So they enlist the help of some thugs to kill Carefree Calixto. He hears of this and starts to climb to Mebilla's room in the highest tower in her father's Castle. Of course Calixto is a little clumsy and falls off the ladder and to his death. Mebilla sees this, runs and tells her father of the affair and then proceeds to jump of the same tower.

And that folks is the story of great love. But believe me, the garden is great regardless.

It was placed in Salamanca because the author mentioned earlier went to school here. He published this book anonymously and placed an encryption in the back that named him as the author that wasn't broken until after his death. Sooooooo Da Vinci Code.

He wrote no more books after this one, or if he did they were lost or claimed by someone else. Come in with a bang, and go out with one. First Spanish one hit wonder?

But on a more serious note this place is something else, otherworldly in fact. Vines creep up metal overhangs chasing the sunlight during the day, and lit up by brilliant lights at night that make them dance like witches fingers reaching to grasp the full moon. White flowering trees make the garden look like the winter wonderlands of my youth without the chill and frigid cold that seeps into your bones in the land of cold air. And in the center of these tiny flowers lies a red and yellow bud, the colors of summer heat, reminding you that every cold winter has an end. To quote Sir Elton John, these flowers are a metaphor for “The circle of Life.”

The outsides are surrounded by ancient cobblestone walls that are three stories tall and drop off to show the whole south side of Salamanca. It is upon these walls that I read in the morning and muse over my day by night, staring up at the expansive cathedral whilst listening to the doves and cranes sing their melodies to their offspring and lovers.

As the birds croon to their loves, people congregate below hand in hand, or locking lips. Young, old and in between come to this place to renew and rekindle their love, or simply just to have a great picturesque spot to do a little making out. As much as I am at home here in the garden, on my travels, I'm still an outsider here. I bring no great love, just my mind, a journal, and my current Hemingway.

One of the more touching parts of this garden is the well. It's located in the center that has quite the tradition. Upon the cold metal sides are locks. And upon these cold, solid locks, are the inscripted names of lovers who have found this same garden. It is a metaphor for undying love because as soon as you lock your names onto the well you drop the key down, in hopes that your love will be there forever, locked in time.

I remember when I was a little boy, toe-headed with a full head of curly hair. Small and precocious, a little weird, but at the same time a little arrogant. But what I remember most was the goofy smile that was always plastered on my face. For a long time that goofy smile hasn't been around, but upon crossing the threshold of the rout-iron gates, it came back. For this is not the garden of good and evil, but the Garden of Great Love.

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