I’ve been known to give certain cities times of the day which I deem the most appropriate with consideration of the city’s atmosphere and personality. Paris is best in the deep purple of twilight and earl grey mornings as the overcast sky frames and highlights the charming red chimneys on the countless rooftops. Rome is best at dusk as the orange of the setting sun reflects itself in the fluffy clouds above as the same color fills in the creases and crevasses of the marble statues of ancient gods– giving life to its every own sense of chiaroscuro. Barcelona is best at high noon with strong, pure sunlight placing its fantastic public art in center stage, where it belongs, as the active city goes about its busy day. Finally, after almost a year in Granada I feel as though I’ve pegged a time for my city. To me Granada is the best in the late afternoon when the air is dense from the heat and everyone is just waking up from siesta. The streets begin to buzz– still a little groggy from nap time, but quickly becoming animated with the promise of a long, cool, velvety night ahead of them filled with dancing, tapas, and lively-told stories. The sky slowly turns from a deep blue into a soft orange, then into a strong crimson just before plunging into twilight. As the red hangs overhead and the streets pulse with a refreshed sense of life around me, the more I realize that I am in the center, the soul, the heart of Andalusia.