Drought

 

We  are officially in a drought. Most of the village grass has turned a straw like yellow and shallow rooting plants in the garden have withered and died. The Gop hill looks like any hill in Southern Spain and the fields below it resemble a beige tapestry, of scorched grass and gorse bushes

In my flower beds the buddleja has suddenly flowered and butterflies of all shapes have appeared from no where to pollenate them.

         

Driving through the village I noticed several women on the green chatting in the shade of the surrounding trees, which is another nod to our Mediterranean cousins, it’s nice to see outside spaces used, I love the social meet ups in public areas , we don’t use them enough.

I came home to find a gift on the kitchen wall

A mug from a villager I had tea with the other day, I had commented just how nice the mug was

Now it’s mine

People are very kind.