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Cortijo La Molina is the result of a slow settlement, a human footprint that remains alive along the Cape, at the foot of the Sierra de Cabo de Gata. Digging high walls by hand, with no other science than that which comes from necessity, they found water twenty-two meters deep. Along the road, the opening of a lime oven tells us about that life of subsistence. They brought limestone, cooked it, put out the fire. They knew about times and temperatures. They were able to calm the rush of torrential rain. They knew wonderful things; that's the footprint. Witnesses of this knowledge of the resources and the calm balance of the forms are the walls of the houses, of the pool, of the mill. Keeping alive the place, and the memory of that culture of understanding with a scarce means of resources, that is our daily task today. |
La Molina |
The lack of almost everything, even the water from the sky, together with the faithful presence of the sea air, gave rise to a fantastic engineering of wood, stone and lime. Sails to receive the wind, a tree trunk mast, wooden geared wheels, bearing and support of carved stone, mud buckets strung on a rope to tie hoists, and a cone on the head. This is the way the mill looked, which, resisting time, raised deep water, and now continues to amaze us.
Although it can no longer turn and sing with the breeze from the cape, the mill continues being a source of life for the farmhouse, and the stream of water that flows from its soul falls like a miracle on the trough and the pool, under the protective gaze of a saint illuminated by candlelight that never goes out.
Although it can no longer turn and sing with the breeze from the cape, the mill continues being a source of life for the farmhouse, and the stream of water that flows from its soul falls like a miracle on the trough and the pool, under the protective gaze of a saint illuminated by candlelight that never goes out.
At the bottom of the terraces there are hundred-year-old olive trees, some aligning terraces, others seemingly scattered.
We had to listen to their stubborn whisper to finally decide to plant a new olive grove. It was not agrarian vocation that moved us, we just tried to cushion the visual impact of a profile of greenhouses that disturbed the view of the horizon, and the sun itself in the twilight.
Years later, grown and generous, these olive trees produce an ecological, clean Arbequina olive, from which we extract their juice, an excellent olive oil. It is a small production where the slow work of sun, wind, fauna and water condenses, along with that of a microcosm of invisible terrestrial beings that do not stop transforming the soil, keeping it alive.
The oil brings to the table the aromas and light of the cape and, without any pretension, the olive trees protect us from a certain hurtful reality of other ways of living, and allow the sun, flashing on its leaves, to decline as God commands.
We had to listen to their stubborn whisper to finally decide to plant a new olive grove. It was not agrarian vocation that moved us, we just tried to cushion the visual impact of a profile of greenhouses that disturbed the view of the horizon, and the sun itself in the twilight.
Years later, grown and generous, these olive trees produce an ecological, clean Arbequina olive, from which we extract their juice, an excellent olive oil. It is a small production where the slow work of sun, wind, fauna and water condenses, along with that of a microcosm of invisible terrestrial beings that do not stop transforming the soil, keeping it alive.
The oil brings to the table the aromas and light of the cape and, without any pretension, the olive trees protect us from a certain hurtful reality of other ways of living, and allow the sun, flashing on its leaves, to decline as God commands.
La alberca (The pool) |
The walls of houses, mill and pool testify to the matured harmony between resources, knowledge and available arms. No calculation would dare to calibrate if one centimeter is left or missing.
To maintain these walls is not to return to the old, but to feel ourselves live actors of the recovery of a life that was about to be erased by the new times. Perhaps that is why, when immersing themselves in the pool water, travelers feel part of something they already thought impossible, and then return to their homes with a little more faith that not all is lost.
And, for such a discovery, it is enough to float between walls of lime, reeds swinging, under the gaze of a true saint, one of those who watch over the tranquility of a place.
The old ones tell us that if some evening a neighbour crossed here and noticed that the saint's candle had gone out, he knocked on the door announcing his bewilderment. The people knew very well where the important things were.
To maintain these walls is not to return to the old, but to feel ourselves live actors of the recovery of a life that was about to be erased by the new times. Perhaps that is why, when immersing themselves in the pool water, travelers feel part of something they already thought impossible, and then return to their homes with a little more faith that not all is lost.
And, for such a discovery, it is enough to float between walls of lime, reeds swinging, under the gaze of a true saint, one of those who watch over the tranquility of a place.
The old ones tell us that if some evening a neighbour crossed here and noticed that the saint's candle had gone out, he knocked on the door announcing his bewilderment. The people knew very well where the important things were.
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Time ago, the grove was an essential space for subsistence. Now it is much more, it is healthy food, approach and affirmation. It is conquest. Without need of an explanation, it serves so that the children learn in an unforgettable way where the carrots come from, which is not a small thing to know. Framed by the road, the pool and the mill, the grove has one of the deepest and friendliest lands of the farmhouse. Nothing refuses to grow in it, except for some difficult audacities such as artichokes or watercress, unaccustomed to Africa. The potatoes grow easily. The beets surprise us, with their red and sweet juice. Even lettuces allow a long crop cycle. When inspiration comes, flowers are sprinkled here and there, and their color also feeds us. The garden challenges what people say they do not have, the garden challenges to find, to find oneself, over time. |
