Andalusia, Where Light Becomes Song

Andalusia arrives in flashes. The hard, clean light on whitewashed walls. The cool hush of a tiled courtyard. The scent of orange blossom drifting through a narrow lane as the day tilts toward evening. Here, culture is not kept behind glass. It lives in the cadence of conversation, in the slow ritual of coffee, in the patient art of lingering beneath a wrought-iron balcony.