On The Move

Back for two weeks from Europe and just now I'm adjusting to the quiet life here on the East End of Long Island. Looking out my back window, yellowed maple leaves cover my yard waiting to be raked. And in front, an empty lane snakes by my house toward the bay. Beautiful but a bit bleak this time of year. And quite a change from the busy streets of Barcelona where life buzzes by at an accelerated pace day and nite.

On foot or bike or moto, the people are always on the move. When in New York City with my camera, I'm prone to approach strangers head on and exchange a few words. But in Catalonia, I was not so bold, suddenly shy. I spent time standing on street corners watching life pass by in a blur.

Sure...there I was an outsider, and worse, a tourist. But I learned that my reaction was not unfounded. On walking and bike tours, guides talked about the Catalans, their fierce independence, their refusal to blend in with the rest of Spain, their struggle to preserve their separate language and culture. In the 17th century, some went so far as to ally themselves with the enemy in a war against France. Perhaps these warnings kept me at bay.

The city was vibrant, an architectural wonder, but the people were aloof, in constant motion, difficult to capture.