San Saturio and the Magical Walk of Lovers

Within that exquisite selection of reflections, which made one of the main pillars of so-called German Romanticism, Goethe, worldwide popular, I am especially struck by that quote that says that of all the peoples of the world, it was the Greeks who most beautifully dreamed of the dream of life.

I do not deny, obviously, the beauty dreamed of by the Greeks, but on this occasion, determined to make a Homeland and given that this summer I had the opportunity to return to one of the places of Magic Spain that I carry most deeply in my heart, I invite you to share part of the beauty of that other Celtiberian dream, which lies deep in the roots of one of the most beautiful and, at the same time, most unknown Castilian cities: Soria.

I will not do it, badly that despite my bitter romanticism, at that moment in which the clock in the square strikes one, occasion in which, with an excited heart, the poet Machado sang to him that of: so beautiful to the Moonlight.

But I invite you to join me in one of those warm noon days, beginning in August, when the old river Duero flows with intriguing parsimony, becoming an improvised mirror of magical concerns.

We will pass under the arch of the Templar monastery of San Polo, supposing that this curious name once belonged to that Apollonian god, who turned his friend ... into an immortal cypress and was transformed into the figure of the stormy martyr Saint Sebastián, leaving behind a rough cross, sometimes partially hidden by the branches of the fruit trees that grow around it, where another romantic, Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer, placed one of the various legends that inspired this city: 'The moonlight'.

Let us also bear in mind that behind our backs we have left the gloomy Monte de las Ánimas (Soul’s Mount) - the name of another of the terrifying legends of Bécquer and the place where the Celtiberians celebrated the summer solstice to the beat of drums, centuries before the Saints Juanes (Johannes) will incarnate the figure of Jano, the Roman god of the two faces- and that following the river bank, we begin to find those old poplars and elms, which continue to be the same ones that Machado saw, at the beginning of the 20th century, when he was practicing in Soria the functions of teacher, and whose bark continues to be the irrefutable proof of part of his most flowery poetry, since in them numbers still survive, which are dates and initials, which are names of lovers.

We will also see, hanging like a lantern, where the river forms a crossbow curve, the mysterious hermitage of another curious saint, Saturio, who, like the Pole of the Templars that we have just left behind, seems to originate from those regions of Hades or the Underworld. , where the beautiful Greek dreams placed the inexorable reign of Cronos, Father Time, who responded to the Latin name of Saturn.

This will make us meditate on some transcendental messages left in the vicinity by anonymous but wise teachers, who will induce us, not only to enjoy the delights of a walk that in some sections can easily induce us to reverie, but also to look at the life from another perspective and think that ours is a passport that has an expiration date and that once completed, there are no extensions.

For this reason, the true traveler is always aware of the sword of Damocles that always hangs over his head and tries to enjoy his trip to the fullest, always having the wise Latin advice: Carpe Diem. Live the moment.

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