During the night a beautiful storm passed over twice, with attendant but brief downpours of the kind where one has to get up to check that the waterfall is only outside. This morning the air is clear, there's a small breeze, the flowers smell wonderful, and the birds are performing an oratorio. I was up soon after dawn in case the plumber arrived early (he hasn't turned up yet).
The bird chorus changed from frantic to placid as the light strengthened and it became warmer; a young redstart lost its way and cheeped plaintively for mama all the way along the wrong side of the house. People headed out into the vineyards and fields on their little tractors and, in one case, an ancient bicycle painted lime green and orange. The loud roar was neighbour's motorbike. There is a family of pearl-shelled snails making its way down the side-door towards the rose-bushes: if they don't move a bit faster they'll get cooked in the sunlight.
And for breakfast I had the most amazing plums from next-door's garden (a present, I didn't go scrumping!) which have apricots somewhere in their ancestry.
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