Olive Leaves in the Wind

Quiet day getting jobs done.

Walk in the golden hour, up our lane, through Sr Manuel's land, across to the chapel and down to the Lake, where we watched some geese, a stork, and a couple of stilts, where the water is becoming mud as it dries up.

Gratefuls:
- my family, imperfect, but beloved, beginning to gather for a reunion later this month in the UK
- seeing a bright yellow bird swishing out of the bay tree, a wagtail, maybe
- that one of the grape vines has reached the top of the patio

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