The morning humidity, the air hardly fresh, warmish, plays with us. The season winter, her signs confuse, new leaves sprout, my weeping willow tells me. Tiny light green leaves climb up as the dried ones are still attached to the branches as well, they seem to interfere in each rhythm. Jasmine blossoming, the fragrant pure and seductive. Branches hanging over the garden wall, patchwork. Green in all her variations, notes, solemn tempo and allure. All refreshed by an intense rainfall.
Pollen and powders dropped on the ground, the palms shiver, awake now by a natural shower.
A peaceful day. I hope the clear washed air is a good sign for eczema.
The night was long, the rest was deep, exited mind deserves a relaxed body.
Pollen and powders dropped on the ground, the palms shiver, awake now by a natural shower.
A peaceful day. I hope the clear washed air is a good sign for eczema.
The night was long, the rest was deep, exited mind deserves a relaxed body.
