Good Friday / Viernes Santo

Like many people in the modern world, we live within earshot of a highway. The noise doesn't bother us much--the quiet buzz from passing cars is only noticeable outside the house or, perhaps, occasionally when windows or doors stay open and all electronic devices (computers, television, and even piano) are turned off. Only once do I recall hearing a real smashup on the highway, and everyone in our neighborhood rushed to their rooftop terrace to see the damage, but both the angle and the distance prevented me from a view.

This morning I woke up, as usual, to stillness, punctuated only by the comforting tick-tock of the bedroom wall clock and the chirping of birds. We sleep with the customary Spanish rejas (metal awnings) down to prevent thieves (who have never bothered us), cold wind (which has), and light from entering. I'm not sure whether the chirping of birds comes through because the walls of the house are thin or because the kitchen door has been opened downstairs to permit mistress Goldie out for her pre-breakfast inspection tour of her extensive domain.

This morning I lay in bed longer than usual--I can do that with breakfast brought up to me--and it was only after my butler and Goldie had returned to the bed and were breathing peacefully by my side and at my feet that I realized that it was unusually quiet. No one was snoring, but I could still hear the tick-tock and the birds. I lay iPadding in the darkness and contemplating an article I am writing, and the clock moved closer to 9:00. I think that I sensed an absence of automobile traffic on the highway a kilometer or so (as the crow flies) away. I know I did not hear the school bus roaring through and turning the corner in front of our house.

It is Viernes Santo, Good Friday, and a major holiday in Spain. Last night at 11:00 in Torrevieja the Solemne Procesión de Silencio walked through the streets at 11:00 PM, and at midnight the Solemne Procesión del Descendimiento del Calvario started from the Plaza del Calvario. All cities and town in Spain have these impressive processions during the evenings of Semana Santa, or Holy Week--some more ornate and elaborate than others. But we do not customarily drive out this late at night and we were no more aware of the nearest-by festivo than we are of highway traffic. The silence has continued throughout the night and into the morning. Though most festivos are marked with fireworks and we often awaken to the sound of firecrackers in the campo around us, Viernes Santo is not, and that makes it unique.

The silence will disappear as the day goes on. I remember previous Easter weekends when nearby towns sponsored tapas festivals, and we have read that a medieval fair is scheduled in Quesada, just across the highway, today and through the weekend. But Good Friday morning is still quiet.