As a child, I imagined strolling across the Field of Miracles on a sunny day. I didn’t know why it was called the Field of Miracles, but supposed the Virgin had probably appeared to someone there. That, or an innocent baby had been cured of a horrible disease. Perhaps both, since it was called the Field of Miracles—plural.
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No wonder Granada has been a magnet for artists for many years: Lush gardens, intricate pattern, birdsong, fragrance, breeze, running water from ever-present aqueducts and fountains, gentle ripples on reflecting pools … all combine to create an expansive, placid atmosphere. Even the exit signs are elegantly carved into white marble.
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