Farrier Wiping Hands in Holguin Dawn Market

Deep shadow swallows the lower market lane in Holguin, while a thin rim of first light catches the silhouette of a farrier standing alone. Rain beads on the worn leather of his apron and glistens on the damp cobblestones beneath his boots. He holds a cloth against his palms, the fabric dark with moisture and metal dust. Above, the sky holds a pale, gray wash typical of the turn of seasons. The surrounding stalls remain closed and empty, their wooden shutters heavy with rain. His gaze is fixed forward, unblinking. A droplet of water slides from the brim of his hat, tracing a path down the rough texture of his collar.