This Spanish castle, with its fishing boats at anchor beside the sea wall, makes me think of the cool damp of dawn on the seashore. Soon the fishermen will go down to their boats and head out to sea to earn their day’s keep. The shadows are still deep in the lee of the turrets and the bay is so calm that the boats ride quiet with their anchor lines slack.
Soon the air will fill with the cries of gulls and the excited chatter of children spilling across the lawns, stopping to look for a bird’s nest in the old apple tree, as they follow their fathers and uncles down to the boats.
Inside the castle, the gray dawn is cool and the smell of coffee and baking bread rises to draw the still sleepy staff down to breakfast before they begin work. I imagine the clink of fine china, the splash of water in the well inside the courtyard, and I long for life in a quiet coastal village where the air is spiced with sea salt and the food is picked fresh from the garden and everyone knows everyone else. A castle to keep.