Gala left for Brussels yesterday; Dasniya for Berlin this evening. Me, tomorrow, and Michael to ballet in the morning. The latter three of us went to a café by a fountain on Calle de Argumosa behind Reine Sophia Museum for a breakfast that was more of an early-afternoon snack, and then for a wander into the gardens of Palacio de Cristal, really just for me to see La Fuente del Ángel Caído, the statue of the fallen angel.
He did seem to be appalled by the brilliance of the sky, dear Lucifer. Curious also, the serpent who appears so often at the sites of the fallen, is there, wrapped around his legs. We thought the setting was perhaps too gentle for such tragedy, as though the blue heavens, the warmth, the casual Sunday visitors, the circumference of flower garden gaiety all conspired to render his fall one which only he could appreciate the enormity of. Better were he to be on his plinth in a desolate abode of the park, beneath heavy trees, in the dimness of a graben, where the sadness could leech into the earth.
A few more wanderings for me tomorrow, and then a flight north and east. I’ve become very fond of Madrid in such a short time; certainly made so by the people I’ve spent my days with. I would like very much to return soon.
