VALENTINE'S DAY..... Past? ... perhaps not, that depends… in Spain….

    

As the 14^th of February approached this year, we did things we’ve been programmed to do.  Chocolatiers formed chocolate into hearts and cupids then dipped strawberries into a divine concoction, restaurants staged elaborate dinners and charged elaborate prices for them, children exchanged cards, the sale of red construction paper and lace doilies sky rocketed and florists seized the moment……..  so, do you feel well loved?

Actually, all of this is fine and good so long as you have that perfect someone with whom to share your affections, someone who sends you a card or maybe flowers or purchases candy and promises to love you at fever pitch forever and ever. Herein lies the problem; forever and ever is hard work unless you happen to be a dog! A proper canine’s affection is constant, reliable, unswerving and remains so forever and ever no matter where you are in this world.  What does this have to do with the subject at hand?    ……….let’s steal away to Spain where Valentine’s Day is barely given a nod.  But instead, during this time of year there is a grand fiesta called the festival of Saint Antonio or St. Anton, the patron saint of animals. It’s a time when city, town and village priests bless animals and pray for their health and safety throughout the coming year. Surely, as you love your pet, (of course, it loves you) you will take it to the fiesta of St. Anton. Every village in the area which I frequent keeps this celebration, although not particularly in the same way nor on any exact date. At Val D’Alba the focus is on dogs and horses, mules and donkeys. Other villages may focus on smaller animals, such as kittens and goldfish. Owners and their darlings begin to assemble hours ahead for a parade which may not begin until 11:00 pm!

 

This parade of animals and owners which can last up to two hours is led by a group of magnificent black steeds, immaculately groomed and ridden by señoras in traditional costumes including the wide flat brimmed hats and long black capes. The posture is perfection, tall and erect, heads held high, both horse and rider. It is a glorious sight. Mounts of every sort follow, some huge, some small, some with braided manes and some with ribbons, some being led, some ridden by caballeros and some by children; many smaller horses and donkeys pull diminutive carts occupied by wide-eyed niños. There is the inevitable splendid coach pulled by six matched white beauties. It could be a fairy tale.

 

Of course, it’s cold, February in the mountains is chilling and your breath freezes almost before leaving your body.  Never mind, the procession snakes its way through small winding streets and eventually the crowds join in and all advance to the edge of town. There the real celebration begins to unfold.  A huge bond fire has been lit and when fully burning, flames reach the height of a two story building. Every animal is lead, driven or ridden around the fire three times…..even the coach with six white horses. Finally, the priest appears and the traditional blessings are recited and chanted beneath the cold, clear, star studded sky just as they have been, probably for hundreds of years. Excitement continues to mount for the fiesta is about to break into full throb. Tables of drinks, all sorts, appear and the official pastry is passed among the crowds. Ladies of the village have spent considerable energy during the previous week baking the St. Anton’s cakes – hundreds and hundreds of them. With a taste and texture somewhere between bread and pie crust, these pastries are formed into circles, flavored with anise, sprinkled with sugar and served only once a year!

It won’t be until the wee hours of the following morning that man and beast, tired but blessed, will make his way home for a well earned rest.

 

One parting glance at the celebration of St. Anton. The priest of a small village very high in the mountains of Castellon Provence is a particular lover of the event and an excellent rider as well.  His favorite horse being a magnificent black stallion. He always chooses the night of a full moon for the celebration of the blessing of the animals. He dresses more like, well, a Zorro type than a priest for this particular night and arrives on horseback. But more note-worthy are his exits. Toward the end of the merriment, he mounts his horse, rides to a slight rise in the land where he is perfectly profiled in the full moon, pulls his horse to a rear, waves his hat, then his greeting booms forth as he rides off into the night……….”Viva St. Anton”

Ah, that I could end this blog with such style…….