DON QUICHOTE AGAINST THE MILL

again a reminiscence of a story!
And it was the first insect I met this morning. She crawled up the white flower (a wild carrot) and flew away when she disliked my behaviour.
A hot day again and in the morning I cleaned a little bathroom, for my guests to come.
In the afternoon we had planned to go to the outside swimmingpool in Beverungen and do some errands too, but there could come a thunderstorm coming our way and so we just lay lazy on the benches.
I started to read the last chapter of the interesting book part of a series: Le roman vrai de la IVe République, titled Les lendemains qui ne chantaient pas. The last chapter tells the story of the french war in Vietnam, carried on by the French army. A terrifying story, as it follows the chapter on The New Look launched by Dior.
I fell asleep and at almost six o'clock it started indeed to storm a bit, some thunderstorm but at the other side of the hills and just a bit of rain, the plants and flowers welcomed it jubilant.

My haiku:

Every drop of rain
Falling in the dry earth is
Welcomed by the worms

And the proverb:

Hij/zij is zo winderig als een molen.

Translation:

He/she is as windy as a mill.