A castle of dreams is what you build for your children, where they can be the rulers and queens and dukes. In these castles a child’s imagination can soar into the clouds, or gallop on horseback across rough hewn bridges that span deep ravines. The towers are high with windows in them to let in light from all directions so that no corner of the castle will ever be dark. And there are always places to go: spires and turrets, secret passages and trapdoors, hidden rooms filled with treasure and magic keys. In this one we start at a balcony looking down over an immense garden–a meadow stretching out below us like a vast green ocean dotted by lily pads each as big as a small pond. A little way off we can see a group of children dancing in the grass, their faces wreathed by smiles and laughter. We walk down bare stone steps that lead to damp earth, past an open air kitchen where they are preparing food for tonight’s feast–roasted lamb with garlicky potatoes and honeyed carrots with raisins from Seville. We stroll through rows of vegetables to one side which give forth smells as sweet as any perfume: fresh thyme sprigs picked this morning; collars of garlic wrapped around fat white onions; bunches of parsley so fragrant you can smell it on your fingers long after picking them up; ripe tomatoes piled high against each other like pink bricks


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