The Garden Bridge In Andalucia

Was a boy of ten, when I could remember those long trips from the states to Andalucia. The planes spirit lifting ascension only worse
until I got use to, the ear popping descent.

Andalucia was beautiful, a much different beauty more rare than what north east America had in views. For at this age I was drawn to landscapes and sights more than a game of football(Tossed or kicked) or tag along with the rest of the brutish boys, which when forced in spending time with any ill-mannered kid by my parents, how awkward it was we had nothing in common. So wondering was my vacation, taking everything in as of smells, people, food, land, sky, waters; when I felt these wild flowers pull at my vision like they were breadcrumbs and I was meant to follow, and follow I did. Into a vast nearly empty garden, pain staken beauty nearly blowing me away. 

I walked and walked taking in all nature had to offer. In the middle of this botanical maze a stream with water under the bridge. A girl sat, legs through the wooden rails of the short little narrow bridge, kicking them and staring at a two storied watery reflection. Not like the other boys and though I was struck by her adolescent beauty I just knew I had to know her. She speaks English with such a lovely accent her name is Silvia, and we share that day as if we were forever friends just catching up when we were just getting to know one another. Everything was wonderful about her, the smile, the laugh, the way she teased, and even the frown when I could tell she was getting mad. A week is long hours in a short amount of time, and before we knew what parting meant reality had taken hold with cold dead feeling grip. I promised to write to keep in touch. She grinned a sure thing smile waving to me good luck.

Every year I strode towards the bridge and glimpsed true beauty that eclipsed nature's most gorgeous flowers. Silvia smiled one meant for nobody but me, then began to spend, share the most unforgettable week. One week was my year, year after year, while I went crazy with no other thoughts but about being there on that bridge. Teen years became a strain still, we made the best of them days, kissing and exploring our own gardens. She turned to me towards the end of one of my weeks and told me that this was her most favorite place, she wished to never be anywhere but here. I didn't hesitate to agree. "How many years?" she asked, and I knew she meant that could go on like this. She grabbed my hand leading me to middle bridge. "We can stay right here forever, you and me, being the love in the waters that the garden needs",half smiling she said this as if I would call her crazy, but I was crazy for her. We embraced kissed and jumped from the bridge. Romeo, Juliet eat your heart out was a brief death thought. 

Crashing through coldish shallow waters hitting my head on a rock, I swear I seen my love reach for me as I resurfaced she floated away. I awoke in the hospital later concussed unaware of the news of the lost. The doctor approaches with diagnosis report, happy to tell me how lucky when I care less for myself. I shout, "Silvia, where's Silvia, is she alright?" I already know the answer but I guess it is life to know what reality has to say. Now that I sit lonely thinking of her....on a garden bridge in Andalucia, where I should have died that day.