Tag Archives: Fiona Pitt-Kethley

Burnt Barite

Some years ago, I found an unknown spot in the Rambla de las Colmenas. High above old mines were slag heaps full of barite, black and white and crystalline, clean as the day they smashed it from the rocks. No … Continue reading

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Arsonists

In summer, various fires break out on hills. The yellow helicopter comes to douse the flames with water scooped up from the sea. It’s cheap and fast to stop a fire this way. The salt, some say, may kill the … Continue reading

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Mina Manolita

A flight goes down, a wall blocks out the light. No reassuring distant entrance view. Steps far too small for adult modern feet. I sit on them, edge myself by degrees. Part of me wants to bring a broom in … Continue reading

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Escombreras

It was the Isle of Heracles to Greeks. The Romans named it after mackerel, an isle topped by a temple, close to land, edged by a Roman garum factory. These days it’s pretty much unreachable, a natural reserve, gulls and … Continue reading

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