The transformation of Chloris

 

"As she talks, her lips breathe spring roses: I was Chloris, who am now called Flora." 

Ovid

Marc Chagall

Still walking in the early mornings....

 I am still walking in the early mornings. September has been all about two things, writing on the novel, and cleaning up the house and making repairs. I suppose writing is cleaning up and making repairs, too. I am going to miss summer. I am very much a summer girl. I have fantasies of lying on a beach in some place like Barcelona or Viareggio, and listening to Mediterranean waves, followed by bedtime where I can look out a window and see the stars. Recently, I have thought about how to do this in my own home, but so far, have not made the attempt. It would mean moving lots of furniture and rugs and asking for help, and then I would have a bed in front of a window, and I’ve done that before, and it was not ideal. So, I will have to settle for the fantasy.  The book is consuming right now. The housework, too. I don’t see a break in that labor until middle October. So maybe not so much blogging and social media.

Meditation by Vojtech Preissig

Vojtech Preissig - Meditation

Mysterious Gardens by Aleksandra K. Nowak

Mysterious Gardens by Aleksandra K. Nowak