Under a Spell in San Antonio

It’s always summer in California so it’s no surprise that winter and I aren’t friends.


I arrived in Canada just before fall. The bright turquoise lakes and mountain hikes soon became rainy days and nights spent tucked in our sleeping bag. It was late September and I could already feel the chill of winter’s breath. I enjoyed the snow for a bit then went south. Montana, then Wyoming, when it found me in Colorado I started to worry I’d run out of places to go.

Texas seemed like a safe bet. America is big but most of us never see enough of the beauty that makes it so great. We stick to the places we know and never roam much further than that. I can’t count how many times I visited Las Vegas. This was my first time in Texas so I didn’t know what to expect.

I was far from home and the holidays were approaching fast. It’s strange how you can love someone so much but you can never love them as much as you miss them when you’re away. Traveling with a lover keeps loneliness at bay but there are times when a wanderer curses her gypsy blood because the pain of missing everyone back home is insurmountable.

Arriving in San Antonio was like going home. I thought I wouldn’t see the sun until spring but there I was dancing in a dress in the middle of December.

The bright, vibrant colors of El Mercado and its sweet Mexican influence energized my soul. It was like finding a slice of Los Angeles 1,400 miles away. The River Walk is as beautiful as it seems in pictures. Cathedrals so big they remind you to be humble. The people are possibly the sweetest in the nation and nothing but love and laughter fill the air.

We wandered the city until the sun went down. Some treasures lie in the most peculiar of places.

Wearing: Spell & The Gypsy Collective Dress