A sure sign of spring, or: why did the Salmantina cross the road?
Every year right around this time I spot the storks collecting twigs for nest repair. I pack my winter coats away and dance round Salamanca announcing the arrival of spring.
And every year my friends assure me we are nowhere near spring. Nowhere, they hiss, while we stand talking in jean jackets. The other day a neighbor sternly warned me not to jinx the weather for all of us by daring to utter the "s" work (p, primavera, en español) before its time.
Today I gathered my strongest piece of evidence yet.
As I was climbing up toward la Rua, I watched the chica in front of make a sudden sharp left turn, followed by a quick 90 degree right once she'd placed herself firmly in the center of a shaded path. A shaded path, I tell you! I observed a precise, deliberate Spanish move to avoid walking in the sun.
Now everybody knows nothing gives away a tourist in Spain more than walking in the sun during summer or the shade in winter. Multiple street crossings and two point turns are perfectly acceptable; we all do what we must to stay cool or warm.
She sought the shade, I tell you! The shade! I consider the walking paths of my fellow Salmantinos far more reliable indicators of the season than the shadow of some drowsy groundhog in rural Pennsylvania.
A Salmantina sought the shade!
I hereby proclaim the arrival of spring.