Ruins in the countryside: Guijosa and the convent of Jerónimos lost

'Nature is an inflexible accountant and always balances her books'.
[Arthur C. Clarke (1)]

When Arthur C. Clarke - author perhaps best known for his great work, 2001, a space odyssey, taken to the movie screens by the brilliant director Stanley Kubrick - wrote his Songs from far away Earth, he thought of a hypothetical but foreseeable global catastrophe , that would make disappear in the cosmic dust this planet, with its millions of years old and its millions and millions of stories, accumulated in that metaphorical horn of abundance, which is the collective memory. Sometimes, when on purpose or on a whim of chance, you find yourself on your way to places like Escobosa de Calatañazor or these overwhelming remains of what once was an imposing monastery of Hieronymite monks, you can not help but think of the catastrophe that fell on the place, and certainly, part of that story, which undoubtedly had.

Seen this way in the distance, what survives of the western part of the old church - that part that looks towards the west, towards the kingdom of deads -, resembles, well one of the many towers that marked this historical frontier of the Duero that separated for centuries the Christian kingdoms of the Muslims. or perhaps, going a little further in the romantic reverie of a rich but misunderstood protohistory, another of those ancient sacred places, whose vertical menhirs resembled phallic phalluses that were introduced into the vagina of Mother Earth itself - there are still some of them, with unmistakable form, in certain areas of that emblematic Sierra de la Demanda- to fertilize it and have the privilege of enjoying the fruit of such a union. That is, of that beloved son, who can not be other than the harvest.

It is evident, in view of the state of the fields, that the generosity of Mother Earth continues to be abundant and by its aspect, there is no doubt that the harvest, gestated in the mystery of its depth and silence, will be, at least this year , probably welcome and abundant.

Now, leaving aside the implicit romanticism in all daydreams, and focusing on these stumps, which by some strange miracle have survived a clearly catastrophic tragedy, if not history, yes at least the memory, tells us that it was for the fifteenth century -XVI when he settled in this place, whose church was consecrated to the figure of Santa Maria, a community of Jerónimos monks -seems to be, that the main promoter of its founding was the then bishop of Osma, Pedro Fernández de Frías-, whose main occupations, apart from the cultivation of some lands that, as can be seen, seem quite lavish, were the manufacture of chasubles and the elaboration of cantorial books.

Idyllic life based on the Cistercian rule-there was another convent of nuns who professed precisely this affiliation-of the ora et labora, approximately until the year 1821, in which the confiscation and the suppression of the religious orders promulgated by Mendizábal, left the monks composed, without shelter and without earth between which there were to count excellent fruit orchards and stables.

They count, likewise the good or bad tongues, that in 1939, captive and disarmed the red army - that by then, constituted the Demon to beat by the conservatives and the Holy Mother Church -, the temple continued in foot, although, not However, it was demolished by the residents of the area, fearing that the monks would return by their fueros and claim not only the building and the few remaining dependencies, but also the lands.

What shows us that, after all, there are clearly human catastrophes, in which the Universe, to which a large part of those confabulations are attributed in which so many believe, does not have, at least in this place, anything to do with it. . and if it is not Mother Earth who claims that accounting that she develops so patiently, there are her descendants, who, after all, do not cease to be her most direct heirs. Be that as it may, the place, within what fits, does not stop being an authentic curiosity and a walk around, an experience at least romantic and cultural.

Notes:

(1) Arthur C. Clarke: 'Canticles of the Far Land', editorial license for Círculo de Lectores courtesy of Plaza & Janés Editores, S.A., Barcelona, 1987, page 17.

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NOTICE: unpublished in Steemit, it was published for the first time in my blog SORIA IS WAY PATH WHEN WALKING. Both the text, photographs, and video (with the exception of music, reproduced under a YouTube license) are my exclusive intellectual property. The original entry can be found at the following address: https://juancar347.blogspot.com.es/2014/05/ruinas-en-la-campina-guijosa-y-el.html

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