Wild raspberry

This was up at 1300m in St Anthony’s Forest. I was there last week and again today. I sat and looked out over the scarp edge to the south west - the middle Arno valley, the low Chianti hills and way in the distance the distinct shape of Mt Amiato rising out of the blue humid air and somewhere further on the blessed relief of the coast and the Tuscan archipelago and then Corsica.

Despite the elevation the convection heat coming up the steep forest slope was a like an oven. A buzzard rose and rose in it, calling and calling.

Driving back I went through steep beech forest facing north, the temperature dropped to 25 and families were out under the cathedral organ trees having picnics or just sleeping in the deep dappled glory of it all.

My new water riches see me digging lagoons around each plant and playing the playboy of the western world with the sparkling stuff.

Later I contrive to stay up til 2am to catch a live streaming music and poetry event for my Aunt Jane in Chicago. She is over 90 and has home hospice care. It was nice to be in touch.