This morning I am back in Granada, I am walking among orange trees on the Alhambra, water both seen and unseen, the sound of it everywhere, the scent of lemon blossom and old stone. I am listening to Estrella Morente sing of the palace and fortress of Alcazaba, her voice an embodiment of deep song, the flamenco we heard and loved in a cave at Sacromonte last week. I am back in Granada in a small room with wooden shutters, the pomegranate trees filled with small birds, sunlight on the cypresses, I am listening to Estrella Morente, I am awake but dreaming, the music filling the room, which is this one, and that one. This afternoon I will fill the little bowl from Granada with olives, remembering the silver leaves on every hillside.
...Theresa Kishkan 
Pomegranate trees. Yum. Thank you for sharing your travels in such exquisite and tantalising detail!
Ah, thank you, Marcie.