The Olive Tree, a Charismatic Mediterranean Storyteller

We can say that there are anonymous trees and then there are trees with charisma. There are trees that would be the pawns in a chessboard and then there is the queen or the king. I mean, you can walk past a whole line of identical spruces and remain indifferent while stumbling upon an oak, a sequoia or a baobab makes you experience that certain something certifying that the thing is alive, that it has some history, a story to tell. Here in Europe, in the Mediterranean basin, one of the most emblematic story tellers and history witnesses is the olive tree. Olives from Greek Elaia give this healthy and tasty oil that has been present in the collective memory of Mediterranean peoples for ages. There are so many dishes, so many recipes, so many products associated with olive oil, so many victories associated with olive branches, so many years of fallowing, of harvesting, of successful crops, of prosperous trade with other countries...olive trees do have a lot to tell if only we knew how to understand them. I had a little conversation with this one at Parc del Laberint.

Megrim (Gallo) at Market Stall in Barcelona

This is what I think is a Megrim sole or Whiff (Lepidorhombus whiffiagonis) a species of flatfish. In Spanish we call it Gallo, the French call it Cardine and Italians, Rombo Giallo. It is also referred to as white sole or lantern flounder. I mentioned a totally different fish called Gallo before in Barcelona Photoblog. Well, what's in a name. The point is I am always attracted by the looks of market food, of dead animals displayed kind of artistically to lure customers. I hope this still life portrait serves taxonomists and food enthusiasts alike. Before I say goodbye today let me tell you that megrim is inexpensive and quite good for soup. Although it is not very tasty, it can be served filleted along with other ingredients. Try this recipe: Cornish Megrim poached in a white wine and mushroom sauce.

Passeig Picasso, Barcelona: Man Walking Dog

In a quiet morning, under the plane trees, along the archways of Passeig Picasso in Barcelona, there goes a man with a dog. The dog contemplating the entrance to Ciutadella Park at the end of the road longing for that daily walk, the man distracted by some shop window to his right. Probably the same scene could have taken place back in 1888 when the Parc de la Ciutadella and some buildings in the area were built for the World Exhibition. With a little touch of imagination of course.