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Enga mellom fjella
Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills.
The dust has settled. The night is fresh.
Two days of rain and birdsong will do that. Odd ...there is even a breeze. Even if summer hasn't ended this is a welcome respite. Tourists may love the sun and heat, especially if they have an air-conditioned room at the beach; but, the rest of us suffer at this time of year. The cracks in the thirsty clay have healed. There is hope that the rains will return again soon.
Seven days back.
Went to market and ate a pinto con natilla (like sour cream but much better) and a pinolillo (cocoa-cornmeal drink). Got to the bank to make sure I have enough money till Monday. Managed to get to market. Ronaldo from San Antonio was there; but Sam was not. I sat with Ilena and filled bags of rice. Bought two small pineapples and a malla (mesh) of oranges.
Also bought a white double impatien that I'll pot up tomorrow.
On the way home I got soaked darting from shelter to shelter. Soaked to the bone. Had to change clothes.
Must say I did something but not much.
At least the birds found the banana I put out.