Xeografia E Historia 3 Eso Santillana ((better)) ●

This was the golden age of the conquista hidráulica (hydraulic conquest). For the first time, I saw the earth transform. Wheat was replaced by naranjos (orange trees) and algodón (cotton). The mozárabes (Christians under Muslim rule) farmed the vega (fertile plain) using norias (waterwheels). The climate didn’t matter anymore; human engineering had won.

I am just a stone on a hill. But if you put your hand on the page of your atlas—trace the Duero River with your finger, then trace the border of the Kingdom of Castile—you are touching me.

On page 12, there is a photo of a hill just like me. It shows the páramo (high plateau), the campiña (low plain), and the ribera (riverbank). On page 48, there is a painting of El Cid.

Then, I saw him. A knight with a long beard, exiled by his king: . He rode past me with a hundred mesnaderos (warriors). They didn't build a castle; they built a simple iglesia románica (Romanesque church) using my limestone cousins.

For millions of years, I was silent. I was part of a great, rolling hill overlooking the Duero River. The climate was my only sculptor: the viento (wind) sharpened my edges, the lluvia (rain) washed the soil over me, and the brutal summer sequía cracked the moss on my northern face.

A new sound echoed across the Duero: the adhan (call to prayer). The Berbers rode south to north. My hill became a markaz (military outpost) for the Caliphate of Córdoba. They didn’t build a cathedral on me; they built a small atalaya (watchtower) and a acequia (irrigation ditch) that channeled water from the river below.