This day, the German summer air is laden with visible moisture – not mist – enough to blur and blue the forest trees skirting the narrow field beside which I sit. Australian air is intense, like eyes piercing secrets.
I had not known there was other air. Continue reading
- By The Way (3)
- Homing (14)
- Australia (14)
- I Spy, I Hear, I Smell, I Taste (54)
- Musings (31)
- Roaming (198)
- Tales of a Travelling Porridge (40)
- Whadda Bewdy (23)
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