Easter in Salamanca, 2026.

The whole city, it seemed, had turned out. The cathedral presided over the procession, but the meaning of the day lived just as much in smaller moments, a girl resting her face in her gloved hand, boys trying to look solemn and not play with the thurible. Musicians gave the march its rhythm and gravity. The man with the staff led the float with honor and concentration. Incense drifted across the square. Even the shop windows echoed the imagery in the streets.

At the climax, the black cloak was lifted from the float of the Virgin Mary, Mourning giving way to joy, and the crowd burst into applause.