Passing [God of] Time

One of our few local sand sculptors has been setting up "studios" in various locations along Fuengirola's 7-kilometer stretch of paseo that fronts the beach. He does some very entertaining sculptures (click here for an earlier example), so I was happy to see him working directly across the street from us a few days ago.

His current work is an interpretation of a statue of the Greek God of Time, Chronos. The original sculpture sits in a cemetery (Friedhof IV der Gemeinde Jerusalems und Neue Kirche) in Berlin, Germany, on the grave of Georg Wolff (a merchant). It was sculpted by Hans Latt around 1904.

I'll soon learn more about the sand sculptor. I learned Friday from one of his assistants (whom he pays to watch over the sculpture when he's not around) that he's originally from Bulgaria where he was for years a champion professional wrestler.

(Click any image to deify.)

CHRONOS SLEEPING IN THE SHADE IN BERLIN-KREUZBERG, GERMANY.
PHOTO © MUTTER ERDE VIA WIKIMEDIA

CHRONOS SUNNING ON THE BEACH IN FUENGIROLA, MÁLAGA.

WRESTLER-TURNED-SCULPTOR FETCHING TWO PAILS OF WATER.
(AS VIEWED TODAY FROM OUR TERRACE.)

And while Chronos sleeps, time passes.
The below unflattering group photo was taken late October 1972 on the occasion of my parents' 25th wedding anniversary. Two weeks later, an Englishman my sister Dale had met that July in Edinburgh, showed up on her doorstep in New York. Within two weeks, they were married and living together in England. Thirteen months after the picture was taken, their daughter was born. Less than nine years after the picture was taken, Dale died of cancer. Five years after that, so did my father. But I'm still here, still smiling, and still thinking of them.

I'M THE ONE WITH THE BIG HAIR.

Suitcases of memories...