Monuments that have withstood the passage of time are scattered throughout the vast emptiness of the Spanish landscape.
Rocks and remnants that reveal mystical narratives, tales of conquest, the reclamation of territories and sights of industrial progress.
Taken over by nature, their human impact fades, blending seamlessly into the landscape or standing as out of place objects, possessing a strange beauty.  
Why do we preserve them?
These buildings and stones, blending seamlessly into the landscape or standing as out of place objects.
The sites chosen for these pictures are those that are lesser-known and less ordinary, highlighting the many ruins that remain unexplored but are still preserved, despite their limited historical documentation.

And again, why weren’t they completely erased from the landscape?
What compels us to leave them standing?
Perhaps they evoke a sense of awe, fear,
or respect—testaments to the endurance of the human spirit, partially swallowed by nature but still standing. Maybe these stones speak to us of the future—of space travel, aliens, and the vastness of the skies.
Upon closer inspection, some might even remind us of a sci-fi landscape, an analog of Mars on our planet.
What do we see when we look back at the past?
How do we perceive it?
Is the weight of time upon us, or is it perhaps a tiger’s leap into the past?
Walter Benjamin suggests the possibility of viewing time as non-linear and non-sequential, allowing us to see the past as a creative force and the present as an open door to new possibilities for contemporary change.
Maybe the image of the ruin challenges us to think in terms of Benjamin’s tiger’s leap, to understand tales and stories, myths and legends, our historical past, as part of a temporal continuum—a lens through which we can interrogate our contemporary present.

Work in progress