A wet cool Sunday evening. Almost perfectly quiet outside, except for the occasional slosh of water as a car passes in the street below to disturb the steady trickle of rain. Then from out of the night comes a single clap of thunder, like someone yelling at the neighbour’s hound to be silent.
Later I find myself wide awake during the pre-dawn hours, unable to sleep. I rise, go to my study, and light several candles. Even though the glow from the laptop screen is enough to read by, it lacks the warm ambience that flickering flame gives.
As the candles burned, my thoughts drifted towards more erotic sensations and the need to share them. A sort of 9½ Weeks moment.
The slow tint of ghostly blue light signals the coming dawn. I dress and opt to walk Baka early through dawn drizzle in damp silence. No lights from windows, no passing cars, just a dark bluish shift to sombre grey light as the day slowly comes into view around Cannes.
Once more @jaava provided food for thought as she settled into her evening. A gracious hostess.
But finally with the grey dawn, came a westerly bringing with it more steady rain to nourish the trees and flowers of spring; a wine urn totted by a godly servant amongst the thirsty guests of a Greek banquet as they lounge or cavort in accordance to their whims and desires.