Path in the woods

Awake in the small hours. Heard the first wren call as the light came up. Thinking of my family life in a more productive exciting way, the past leading to the present, the curiosity of how things happened and what they might have meant then and now. Each of us drawing our own conclusions because of where we stood and stand. Separate and together in that strange and bounded land.

We slumbered and went to the market for fish and chicken and veg and fruit. We lost each other somewhere and then looked for an English sponge mop head but it was not to be found.

Later as the heat built to 25C we staggered up through the woods and into shadows and glens. The strange panic of the other day still with me still.

Prawns and linguine later. Calamari. Sciaciatta -  crushed red grapes on a thick bready bed. Little red figs. Skye whiskey from where we stayed some years ago.

We are heading to the great momentous point,where, keys in hand, we'll take possession of house and 3.6 acres of land. Tuesday is the day. Noontide the hour.