How difficult it is to live in a place capable of hiding a two-thousand-year history expertly. Not only that, we find our nails that we find out from the depths of the bright sun quickly drowns the light. This is a meeting away from the pretty trap of coincidences. It is best to surrender to this reality and enjoy the work.
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The immense, blue azure dome passionately snapped over the soil, wrapped her in the void with the arms of her tightly gathered. There is no single cloud in the sky. It's all dead.
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Only upward, in the depths of the sky a herringbone flaps. And once in a while, a seagull screaming, a quail sounding a quail comes from the steppe. They are here as lazy, wistful sewn as the oak trees have gone without purpose.
Cypress tall sunflowers are full of emerald, topaz, rubies, with a collection of flying insects, over the mottled veggie vegetable gardens.
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