Spring’s lingering light prompted a stroll down to the marina port where yachts and cruise boats were neatly parked, the mighty fishing boats puttering past, as the sun touched the horizon. 193 more words
The day when pristine wholeness approaches,
When colourless dripping clouds shall not permeate souls,
Your light soaking up the heavy rain drops, casting joy.
Now, momentarily, I am flickering in shadows’ flow. 23 more words
The sandstone entrance of the bar welcomed me for a glass of a clear, ever so slightly sparkling liquid called Txakoli—the local white grape variety unique from lapping up sea air and rooted in soil splashed by the Bay of Biscay. 116 more words