The difference a rain makes

Everything has perked up, what with the rain three four days back. The calabrese knock me out. They seem to love this soil-forming land. The walnuts are coming on stream. Figs a plenty. And we’re off for a mini seaside break tomorrow. The Tyrrhenian Sea. Che bello.

Like the man said in the Bogart film, ‘Have you ever been bitten by a horsefly on a saltwater beach.’

Talking of beeches I was shocked to see this morning the leaf turn high on Falterona (1400m) as the high beech forest got it’s first cold nights. And then the sweet punky smell of melancholy of a bank of ivy in bloom.

The wheels are turning, sun lower in the sky, grapes ripening, crickets singing on but their nights are numbered. Domenico at the garage says funghi soon with the wet and warm. This year I will find porcini. How glorious that first porcini omelette will be.

Love to you Blippers. My thumb and forefinger look like they’ve been dabbed for prints. It’s just the walnuts. Rest easy.