|Totally unrelated photo of a cute flower from our garden: the Life begins at 40 rose|
It was a night shrouded in mystery, paganism and the famous Galician superstition. It still is.
It was always the first of many late nights as kids. With Galicia falling on a different time zone to the rest of Spain but keeping the same time as España, daylight lingers on late into the evening and one needs darkness to see the bats circling the swimming pool and spy the stars while lying on the grass with her father or even enjoy the most impressive summer storms over the Atlantic Ocean, lighting up the Cies Islands like huge powerful fireworks. Late nights were also perfect for bike riding in the dark, always circling the swimming pool, with the odd fall into the chlorinated water, bike included (never me).
As kids, summer meant freedom.
The only problem always was that I would invariably wake up the next day covered with the first, but not last, insect bites of the year. Always the only one in my household that the little bug(gers) attacked.