Its clear this morning - but windy and cold
From my study, I see the looming grey hulk of the opposite mountain, silhouetted by the palest blue to sunrise peach of the early sky.
Lights still sprinkle the curve of the coastline like a multicoloured necklace around the throat of a dowager.
The froth of the wind-teased sea, her lacey garment.
My header transports me to France in the sun; La Farre to be precise.
A teeny tiny village
10 wonderful days spent here
Among the vines, the lavender, the red poppies, the olives.
Just looking at the rich warm greens in the picture, reminds me of childhood days when I used to lie in the grass, staring up at the sky, imagining I could see patterns in the blue.
If I close my eyes, I can feel it, smell it, hear it, to this day.
Tickles of grass or little insects on my skin; rich warm summer scents; the high pitched buzz of cicidas, lazy bird noises, far off voices. . .
And the sense of all the time in the world to just get lost in.