Bread for the morning came from five-o’clock ovens fired with passion and streaked with musky, pungent olive oil; the steam rolled out of those great clay caves and up the terraced resin scented hills of vineyards’ cool and shadowed kiss. Inside the chalk-white walls with their gauzy curtains strewn and the brick brown pavers all around worn by pacing wiry dogs and treading cats, the whole countryside slept, immobile, somewhat far retreated in their beds before the wavy rays of fourteen-karat sun-baked into turquoise heat our ceiling of sky.
Thank you, my dear!
Love those photos!
Taken in a different sun-baked land, San Antonio!
Fresh bread – yum. Beautiful images.
Thank you, my sweet.
I think “stunning” is the only word that comes to mind for me, too! 🙂
Lovely description touching all the senses! And how magically you captured the building’s reflection reflecting the turquoise sky!
That was such a beautiful view, I stayed there gazing on it quite a while. One of those wonderful opportunities to pause and, yes, reflect. 🙂