La Muela (The Millstone)

I am the Millstone, the great grinding wheel that turns raw grain into fine flour. The acequia brings me water; the grain pours from the hopper; I do the work of transformation. Each grain type needs its own grind: wheat for bread, barley for ale, maize for porridge. I am the labour that turns potential into product. The miller sets the gap; I do the grinding.

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A caravan master brought me a bag of mixed grain once — wheat, barley, maize, all jumbled. I ground the wheat fine, the barley coarse, the maize to meal. But one stone cracked: a grain so dry it crumbled to dust before the wheel could touch it. The miller came and sorted the bag before the hopper. After that, I never ground unsorted grain. The stone learns. The crack remains.