How beautiful it is-restaurants, small shops. We outline the plaza, walking under the sheltered roofs, faster now, we run. I’m pulled down a side street, dodging cafe tables, pushing in chairs, I sneak a glance over my shoulder. Everything is alive, it’s so real. I stare. People pass, a blur, bumping me along, they tell me to hurry, keep up. But I must shoot this scene, this moment exists for the sole purpose of being captured-I’m in awe. I follow the soft glowing street lamps up the cobblestone, stop only a moment. CLICK.

Months later I would realize what I’d done. I had been a tourist who’d fallen in love and refused to let that love go. I can feel the rush of that moment each time I look up at my wall, my soul coming alive in Puerta de Sol.