Greenery IV

We arrived again at the crossroads. I asked my mother to go down on the other road, to see the scenery there. We climbed down but there I found that the church and other buildings were farther than I believed, so I renounced going on that way and I returned on the main path towards home. An old stone surrounded by dead leaves was showing its head on the ground. I stepped on it. Even that stone was partly green. A stump opened its eyes to the sun as if it were wearing glasses…almost remembering again the Emerald City of Oz. Autumn was on the way home.

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Close to our garden, on the secondary village road grow many weeds and wild flowers. Two white species captured my attention. One of them was sparkling yellowish white, like fireworks on a dark canvas. It was a nightshade bush as far as I know. The other one was a sort of wild morning glory, opening its goblets to the sun.

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The rose hips were so brilliant on my way, stretching their red berries as a kind of gift. A gift of color when autumn is at the gate. When memories, sad or happy,  are twisting again like that tree guarding the last gate towards the main road, right before reaching home. Memories come in, memories come out…

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Hey, it’s good to be back home…Home where marigolds are lining the garden fence, where wasps are visiting my pink slippers in the garden, where the same old wagon wheel made of wood, dated times when grandpa had his horse and his hay on the fields, the same wheel is spinning time in silence…Like that wandering pigeon that landed a few days later in our yard, I am home again.

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note: two of these pictures in these 4 stories were taken (also by me) with my small Olympus camera, because I had both cameras with me that day !

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