Far from the arid solitudes of the lands of Almazán and the infernal depopulation of the pitiful fields of Gómara -which for centuries were the unbeatable fiefdom of the ancient Counts of Gómara, who came to dominate a good part of the province- and heading towards leafy mountains and lands of pine forests that begin to bid farewell to the Numantine solitudes of Soria to welcome the misty lands of that heart of Old Castile that is Burgos, it is not strange that the traveler is surprised, letting himself be carried away by the beauty intrinsic to countless small rural towns, little or nothing known, whose commendable idiosyncrasy breaks molds with the usual, opening wide the doors to the subjectivity that always hides behind speculative fantasy.
Towns, which seem to have been born directly from stone, because stone, with disparity not exempt from an architectural vision based on purely artisanal nobility, is what beats in the depths of its heart and at the same time, it is what determines and seduces the first vision of the stranger, who already begins to enjoy the contrasts as he approaches them.
He has been observing them, silhouetted against a stormy sky, which seems to have a predilection for the vicinity of pine forests and very old juniper groves and which allow their load to dump abundantly, who knows if with the intention of fertilizing a land, which can see the beauty of its green pastures, nothing has to envy the always fresh latitudes of that natural orchard, which are always the fertile lands of the north.
In the middle of that horizon, it would seem that lost in the infinite meadow, the picturesque silhouette of the town, which owes its name to the vicinity of a river, the Abión -which will never appear with honors in Geography books, because like many of us, was born to be a tributary and vassal of another major river- provokes sensations in the distance, with the peculiar call for attention of its rural physiognomy.
Abioncillo, since such is the name of the town that I invite you to discover today, has always remained in the shadow of medieval towns, such as the unstoppable Calatañazor, from which it is barely five kilometers away, from the ancient juniper - sacred place, where the ancient Celtiberian druids they collected mistletoe and celebrated their peculiar fertility cults- and above all, of that natural wonder, known as the Fuentona or the Eye of the Fuentona -the latter name, based on the original beliefs that the ancient gods observed the evolution of the men through lakes and lagoons - which also belongs to the neighboring municipality of Muriel de la Fuente, is another few kilometers away, which can be easily traveled by natural trails, full of beauty and mystery.
Common feeling, that time has stopped, once set foot on the sparsely cobbled streets of the town, it is not surprising that the traveler feels, somehow, out of place, walking in the middle of an architecture in which you will even see curious symmetries, which are far from the ordinary, to channel the senses towards the path of the useful and the lasting, where each stone has been placed with the thoroughness with which a modern Meccano game is assembled , to the point that nothing is waste, nothing is left to chance and each stone fits into the place in the way it should fit, to the millimeter, to achieve the complete solidity of the whole.
Houses that swirl around the small hermitage, which was possibly Romanesque in origin, but despite having lost its brilliance and pedigree -who knows, whether due to the ineffable passage of time or the ineffable taste of men- it continues to perform its function, although its bell barely rings once every fortnight, to call the neighbors to settle accounts with God, who, after all, for better or for worse, is the only one who always attends to their demands.
The traveler will also pay attention to the old school, recently remodeled, that although it keeps its doors firmly closed, it will always be, however, a guarantee of the future for the small community and a place where many of these children learn to grow up watching to the world, above all, to that rural world that saw them born, with the true eyes as you have to look at it: with those of a poet.
An excellent place to spend a season in the most fruitful tranquility and an excellent starting point to other places of interest, both in the province of Soria and the nearby and neighboring province of Burgos, Abioncillo is one of those places, touched by the grace of God, where one will experience something so powerful, like the desire to reconnect, if not with oneself, then at least with a truly privileged natural environment.
NOTICE: Both the text and the accompanying photographs are my exclusive intellectual property and therefore are subject to my Copyright.
