but when I saw this almost white one she stole my heart. Wet and blown by the wind and still she radiated her strengh and beauty.
The day started rather grey and almost wet only gradually it bettered a bit. Walking in this kind of weather is enjoyable and on my round I observed again where everybody was and what they did. New born waterbirds ever again appear and new wild flowers I had forgotten to exist show their colourful blossom.
A bit tired I am as a matter of course after the reunion. Who would not be?
Tonight we will attend an interesting lecture about the frech troubadours from the Middle Ages, held by a friend, in his home and other friends we will meet there too.

My haiku:

Wild waters streaming
Young birds crying deafening
Except the dead ones

And the proverb:

She/He that blows in the dust, fills her/his eyes with it.

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