“Light does not fall upon Segovia, but rather it is the city that rises toward it.” So said the Andalusia-born poet María Zambrano (Vélez-Málaga, 1904-Madrid, 1991), a writer and essayist who spent her childhood and youth in Segovia where she met Unamuno and Machado, and drank in the mysticism of San Juan de la Cruz. It was in Segovia that Zambrano, a privileged disciple of Ortega, wrote her first articles and developed her capacity for universal thought. She was also in Segovia when Spain declared its second republic, of which she was a fervent supporter. When war broke out, she left Segovia and went into exile, first in Paris, then in Mexico, La Habana, Puerto Rico, Rome… Twenty five years after she left Spain, Zambrano wrote an essay entitled “A place for words: Segovia”, in which she waxed philosophical about places around the city. She also talked about the special quality of the light in Segovia, something that had a marked impact on her. It’s the kind of light that puts everything in its natural place, she tells us. She’s right, the city rises each day toward the light, just like in this photo of its old quarter. This light will always remain, eternal, just like the literary legacy that María Zambrano left us.