My friend Carlos and I went bush-wacking in Cercedilla the other weekend. I helped him navigate his new camera, we reveled in the fresh air, and played with the cows (or rather, I watched Carlos and hoped he wouldn't get attacked). It was a lovely day in the mountains.
At our picnic spot, lying on my back, smell of sap and moss... just like home.
Carlos and I pose triumphantly: we made it out of Madrid!!
Life is much more enjoyable when you're flexible. Just ask the cow.
Atop a rock overlooking an expansive valley. Carlos was fearless, I had to sit down after a minute or two because I'm a big pansy and the height made me dizzy.
View from the rock.
Other view.
This in no way illustrates how high up we were. Really, falling would have hurt!
Camera war. 
The smell reminded me of Camp Orkila, anyone else remember stripping bark of logs for an activity at Day Camp? Oh child labor, how I miss thee.
The curl is the moth's tongue. There were butterflies and moths everywhere.
We rested at a little hostel and drank a few pitchers of water and some iced coffees. This cat was king of the house.
Resting our feet on the way home. The long Cercanias ride afforded us a view of a thunderstorm that hit the mountains just after we left. The sun was setting and the lightening glowed magenta, orange, and white. So beautiful! I love summer storms. If only every day could end so spectacularly.
