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Hope and new encouragement

In no way and by no propitious figment am I to believe that this latest grayness is permanently nullified today, since that depressing duvet, that enduring speckle of rain obfuscating Les Pierres I can not stop but complain about to Ivory, who feels the same but is obviously just as powerless when it comes to changing its course, can never be far and nefarious things have a tendency to always return, but when dawn broke this morning its light gave hope and new encouragement, also giving new way to assess the consequences of yet another nightly storm.

The years of being the caretaker of a neighboring chateau, even though the priorities of the frequently traveling chatelaine hardly ever involved any maintenance or repair anyway, have persuaded me to value our blessings as high, no, higher than any actual damage found and to not let a possible mess steer my heart away from the attraction it is firmly tied to anyway, but this morning’s stroll around the house made me reregister that even the slightest bit of light really uplifts that intention.

The plan was to take pictures at the real war zone of Les Pierres, not necessarily of our neighbors expansion drift, indefinitely halted by who knows what who knows why, but of the kind of eerie yet beautiful dead Buddleia flowers, the Black Nights this lazy gardener conveniently forgot to cut last autumn, seemingly a minimal memento for this mood and a possible starting point for todays writing. Steadfast and rectilinear, that was exactly what I did, but when I turned around, the real image of the day exposed itself.

This is what happens when every perceptible particle grabs that tiniest bit of light that makes today a whole lot more bearable than yesterday and starts posing for me, and not only willingly but compellingly shouting – look at me. Now picture my euphoria when they finally do bring out the sun.

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