A barefoot penitent on the way to church on a holy afternoon.
People took the streets with candles on one hand, their faiths on their sleeves.
An antique carosa carries the statue of Veronica, the woman who wiped Jesus' face with a shroud.
A parade of women all clad in black, veiled, barefoot, with thorns and leaves on their heads. Perhaps a pagan belief that predates Christianity?
Sometime after the the Easter celebrations, I took time off to see obscure coves and places off the radar. Here's a picture of fishermen bringing a boat back to shore.
Stumbling into a seemingly forgotten and abandoned ranch.
a woodsman with fuel for a fire for the night.
I could easily lose hours just lying on my back and looking up at trees. It's a still image of pines in the middle of nature's ballet.
Middle of nowhere places.
Island boy
I always thought lamps slept during the day and go to work at night..
At another village, I met these stableboys, who despite of blinding heat, managed to smile and trudge and trek up a mountain with only their sandals to cover their feet.
Stumbled onto this town's fiesta. Aaah.. Somewhere, there's always a party happening.
One hundred and thirteen years later, I would be born after this woman's death.
