'the languor of noontide that gathered the thunder...'
It must rain soon.
Scent of rugosa roses, buddleia, and cut grass drying, a frog croaks at the water's edge, warm breezes.
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Up the road or down, sometimes further afield, often not for long, we're out most days.
Thirty words a day, about walking the dog. Inspired by Clare's blog Once around the Park
Trédaniel plan d'eau
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- Up the road, afternoon.
- Down the road, evening (making up for lost time)
- Up the road, morning.
- Pause - rather more than 30 words.
- Up the road, morning.
- Hillion peninsular, afternoon (with Gillian and Ba...
- Up the road, evening.
- Trédaniel plan d'eau, morning.
- Down the road, afternoon.
- Up the road, afternoon.
- Up the road, afternoon.
- Down the road, evening
- Down the road, afternoon.
- Trédaniel plan d'eau, morning.
- Up the road, afternoon
- Up the road, afternoon
- Up the road, afternoon (Sunday).
- The old railtrack, Gare de Moncontour, afternoon
- Quessoy arboretum, afternoon.
- Cesson beach, afternoon, with Gillian and Barley (...
- Down the road, afternoon.
- Trédaniel plan d'eau, afternoon
- Down the road, morning, very early (Monday 30th)
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July
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2 comments:
How I miss living in the country! I read your posts here and wonder why i don't just get outside now....and then I realize it's because I don't want to be near a street, with traffic. I want fields and woods and sky and birds and bugs, without sight or sound of cars, or other people....
Withdrawal pains! Help me!
Languor: such a sensuous word.
Always that heavy stillness and heat before a summer storm starts to build.
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