|Thank you, thank you – I am alive and I can see.|
I’m home in France. My dear dear Charente Maritime – I love you. You are always here waiting for me. The neighbours kiss me. Your beauty washes down through stone into river and sky. I am so lucky in my life to be here with eyes to see and a mind to abandon to you. Truly I am in awe of this place. It is a watercolour picture of the heart with a smile of church bells.
Winter sun , your fine pen of stark beauty draws a summer in my heart
|To infinity and beyond those French films of avenues and kisses.|
I am pausing today from the ding dong of Shannon’s Law and blog tours. I took my camera for a walk to try to fix the atmospheric light of this winter’s day. Spring is nibbling at the edges now.The bare trees still expose that truth of Nature’s skeleton. As any of my readers will know, I never hold back in talking openly about love and its worldly hit-man, sex. In a way, Winter is the truth of enduring love. It is the true uncompromising hardcore when all the dressing up, tease, promise and make-up is done. If I’m being OTT Emma let me know. Here are a few shots I wanted to share.
Beauty on this scale is emotional. I’m not one of those posh Wordsworth guys who can express the intellectual power of Nature’s beauty. Even so, I’m a human bean planted in this soil to grow.
Emma thinx: Life grows. You are life. Life is you.