Magic of Red Valley

In a corner of the Serranía Media of Cuenca there is a magical place, a small valley surrounded by poplar groves, which well into the month of November turns into an intense red color dotted with a range of colors that ranges from yellows, ochres and oranges of the autumn, to the white of the jopos or the purple of the bushes that are woven between the osiers. The magic is called Cañamares

There is a sacred symmetry in the earth's pain when autumn decides to bleed in Cañamares. The frame cannot contain so much living geometry: pure lines born from the mud, copper arrows pointing to a cold sky, while the Escabas River murmurs its ancient score of water. To capture this miracle, there is no need to rush. What is needed is the shutter speed of the soul, an aperture open to the melancholy of the landscape, and the fine grain of memory. You look through the viewfinder, and the afternoon backlighting ignites the poles, transforming the valley into a gigantic box of natural light.