This summer we often walked with Berlino along a long field to the Plato statue (It is terra cotta and very high up in a niche in the barn building - that’s the orange nook, by the way, in one of this week’s paintings). As we walked, there would be thousands (yes!) of grasshoppers who would jump all around us. It was both funny and icky at the same time. We rarely stepped on one. I’m not sure I will ever get used to walking in the countryside. I try to tell myself that seeing the grasshopper, or (in Blair’s case) children with goats, or a praying mantis, is like seeing shoes in a store window, but meh? I don’t think so. Lately, up here in Roccamalatina there have been days I’ve not seen anyone but Blair and Berlino, and it bugs me. Sometimes, I hear people talking but it’s really just a buzz saw or noisy truck. Cabin fever, in September. |
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