The towns of Castile sleep the fantastic dream of winter and behind the windows of their invincible inns, friendship makes its way through the glorious fire of the inns.
Life awakens from the inside, while the icy Hyperborean winds leave their kisses of frost tattooed on the cold surface of the crystals.
Like prodigious windows that serve as a border to two antagonistic worlds: the infinite desolation of the barren fields and the indomitable beats of Castilian hearts.
NOTICE: Both the text and the photographs that accompany it are my exclusive intellectual property and therefore are subject to my Copyright.
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