Webs

It’s the same feeling almost anywhere in the world, looking at bits of sky between branches. I know this park pretty well. It’s called, ‘El Retiro’, which is fitting because it’s more of a retreat than a park. It’s a great green lung in the centre of the city and it used to form part of the royal gardens until it was donated to the people of Madrid in 1868. I’m sitting on one of its big hills. If you look very carefully the blades of grass you can observe a network of spider webs that carry on as far as the eye can see. I see a little brown spider in front of me and realise that I am sitting on the spider network. We are all sitting on the spider network. Some people are even playing frisbee on it.

When we first moved here, every other day I would take a packed lunch and a book to the Retiro. A few days before my twentieth birthday, I found an isolated patch of grass, sat down and began to read. Suddenly, three wild, dancing children burst onto the scene and plonked themselves down on the ground in front of me, giggling and bumping into each other on the way. Their glossy strands hung far past their shoulders and they wore moth eaten shirts. They appeared to be alone but didn’t seem at all bothered by it. They gestured towards my lunch with big brown eyes and naughty smiles, and, mesmerised by their gumption, I found myself breaking a nectarine into pieces and passing them around. They chewed on the small bits of fruit and hummed with approval. Next, we each had a large gulp of orange juice, with the boy drinking more than his fair share and his two sisters overwrought with the injustice of it. It felt like a pirates’ tea party. Their eyes shone with excitement at everything I pulled out of my bag, including a chocolate bar and a plastic-wrapped tuna sandwich, and just as they wrapped their little fingers around the items, an argument broke out over the uneven distribution of goods.

I swiftly stuffed the chocolate bar and sandwich back into my bag, explaining that I would hand them over again if they promised to share with each other nicely. They all nodded in agreement. I placed the food in the oldest sister’s hand. Shrieking victory, they jumped up and ran away, hooting and spinning like a travelling circus. I felt pleased and robbed at the same time.

A helicopter just passed overhead. A couple is canoodling on the hill next to me; she’s sitting with her back up against his tummy, chuckling and diving out of the way as he tries to kiss her neck. I think I’ll take the metro home instead of walking so I can sit in the sunlight a little longer.