Imagine the countless corners from which she might be portrayed…

No, I speak not of my city, but of Primavera (Spring) — a work that silently beholds us… yet I would say more. At times I feel she has the gift of entering our thoughts with her gaze of breeze and brine, as though she were but an extension of the great azure mantle that accompanies it in its dreams.

Primavera was created by the Cuban artist Rafael Miranda San Juan as a tribute to Cuban women.

This sculpture is located at Galiano and Malecón, right by the sea. It is truly beautiful, and indeed, it may be captured from countless angles. I actually didn’t have this view before. So it was handy to park my bike by the flaky wall of the Malecón and grab a few shots.

Instead of hair, the woman’s head is adorned with butterflies—the national flower. The features of “Primavera” were not inspired by any particular model, but the shape and slenderness of the neck arose from observing the pose of some Cuban dancers. 
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I found that gesture really lovely.

To put the weather and how I felt into words: my bare skin was burning in the sun, sweating, but with a bit of breeze it felt cool too — especially when I sped up on the bike. Down by the Malecón wall I had to watch out so my plastic snack box didn’t blow away into the sea. And I had to swap lenses quickly, you can really feel the salt air. No way I was leaving without a few shots of that view.

The view I had on my way back home.

A zoom-in using my ever-faithful 45–200 mm lens.

What I was leaving behind.

Our emblematic lighthouse, El Morro.

Clear skies, the sea in a deep blue that really caught me… the breeze tossing up little foamy crests here and there… Quite a show, no doubt. I spotted a seagull flying, but my photo doesn’t really do it justice. You’ll see it if you zoom in.

Taking it easy on Saturday.

Up until yesterday I was sure that, with how things are right now, no tourists were coming to Havana. But at Plaza Vieja I spotted a big group—maybe fifteen or twenty people—from Poland, or at least that’s what I thought I heard. I also saw some visitors from Latin America walking our cobbled streets in small groups. It’s true there isn’t as much buzz as before; even the traffic is way down, and musicians complain about how little work they get in squares and restaurants. One of them looked so bored, poor guy, that he sang me two or three songs while I rested in the cosy shade of a park. 

Either way, a walk always shifts how you look at things. Make sure you enjoy those little breaks from the routine that sooner or later always comes back around.

Happy Women’s Day!