REFLECTIONS ON PAST WARS
I sit on my terrace, this warm summer Spanish evening; a Bach cantata playing softly on my radio, the air loud with the machine-like stridulation of the crickets, and the muted sound of the goat bells from the nearby farm. It is difficult to believe that within my lifetime this land was riven asunder by a brutal and bloody civil war. It is hard to conceive that the mountains around our house resounded to the rattle of small-arms fire, and the thunder of artillery andaerialbombardment; that these... Sign in to see full entry.