I have chosen this panorama just because of the story involved in it.
It was taken during our Easter holiday. We had decided to go to Andalusia and we were enjoying ourselves and celebrating our eldest's daughter birthday at a restaurant, when a friend called us on the telephone. We expected her to just say 'happy birthday' and chat for a while, as she did, but then after that she told us the bad news.
It's so bewildering when you unexpectedly hear of the death of a friend -one with whom you have shared so many things... It feels like something impossible, as if we all felt secretly immortal -including in that belief our dearest ones: death only seems to happen to more distant people. And even if we are forced to admit our own, we use to set it in a far, hazy future.
I was deeply shocked.
We went out of the restaurant, nothing had changed around: the river would flow to the sea, the children would play in the sand, life would follow on its same old way. I remembered the verses of the Andalusian poet:
'Y yo me iré
Y se quedarán los pájaros cantando'
('And I will be parted / and the birds will be left there singing' Juan Ramón Jiménez, 'The Definitive Journey').
Then I noticed the little boat on the beach. I was only aware of it's symbolic value after the panorama was stitched.
I held my monopod high in the air, -as I frequently do- and started the shooting making it turn around facing the blinding sun as I mumbled to myself: "This one's for you, Maite".