Time for the bottlebrush, that is, but this is last year’s photo, it’s still quite far from bursting open. And time for the magnetic poetic Oracle to have her say.
This is not the bottlebrush above, neither eggs, but something else waiting to burst open, plus an ant visitor. Nature is waiting.
It's time Thousand gorgeous eggs, raw, juicy, sweet, in tiny forest. Man must sing, sit, sweat. Love life. Live from day to time. Go.
It’s cloudy and cold! It never used to be cold in May. This is almost Africa! No wonder the bottlebrush is in no hurry. At least we have our beloved stufa, that is furnace, but we are on the last bag of pellets. Snow Melts Somewhere tells me that in Finland the central heating is off already as if to say: It’s May. Go and swim now! I’m pretty sure that in our supermarket pellets have been replaced with barbecue coal too.
I still haven’t been anywhere new but amore’s father was here this weekend and after chatting with him for just half an hour I needed a nap as I’m so disused to talking to a real person (amore doesn’t count).
And when he left, I watched the entire first season of Line of Duty. It will be a battle to go out in the world. May the Fourth be with you!