Sunday morning in a courtyard with flowers of spring bulbs. Tea or coffee? We move the tables. The buds of trees color the horizon of a soft lime green translucent. Cold milk, please. Children chase a real ball freshly repainted. Honey or cherries? Birds. The boxwood themselves seem gay!
Anywhere. Normandy. Correze. Campaign. Wed Islands?
The village square rebruit echo familiar terraces found the influx of warm weather, neighbors, bettors, foreign dazzled fans of local football team. Cyclists dressed again Sunday fluo nine straddle gleaming frames titanisées at least designed by NASA. Orangina, Coke Zero, beer or ... The waitress re-accortée smiles to the ancestor who resumed his endless nagging walk. Chirping. The baker drags before closing his shop. She offers her a cake last tourists astray. The bells ring out from another crystal.
Flea in jeans and without socks.
Prime improvised picnic in the garden light, first cyclical angst: sun or shade? Schubert and Michel Berger? The tek a little intoxicated by the rains of winter is exhilarating. Mustards and fresh wine, but good! A slight breeze recalls that he was not so cheerful this morning.
Moment expected and crumbly. Time stops for a moment. The sun hits the walls white and sweeps through the windows unlocked. We won another winter and the hero of last night which was celebrated on violin sixty spring twirls.
Chin!
16 hours. 25 ° ... ... The highway empty. On bridges
onlookers amassed for the occasion, some encravatés, watching the swarms of bikers expected return of "24 big cube" of Le Mans, so many nice brown and gold beetles elytra finally sounding released from their cocoons.
Otherwise, nobody. The coyote whistle
lovingly.
The constabulary before.
Paris. The skirts have flowered again at the crossroads of Saint Germain des Pres.
It has been our first weekend of spring.
A cloudless weekend ... or almost!
That of course leaves Eyjafjallajokull an immaculate sky, but sellotape those who leave or those who return and unfairly deprive those who expect to find.
Dust ...
ashes should be apart!
Finally, Tulle won and rises Federal 2. Funny day!
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