How do I capture that special fleeting moment , when all comes together in what seems perfection . Can I recall it in sufficient clarity , my prose do it justice , to recreate those feeling and emotions . Well, I can but try .
That day started with overnight rain , vaguely impacting on my semi-consciousness through noise on the terrace . The rainfall was bypassing the windows , thus there was no wind accompaniment . For me, the day proper started with an enthusiastic dawn chorus , dragging me into wakefulness; it was time to emerge and see what was causing all that excitement.
Stepping out onto the grass all my senses came alive to create a picture , an experience almost too special to believe . The rain had stopped, leaving trees , grass , everything, freshly washed ; bursting to celebrate this special day. Leaves were dripping with joy , and wet grass was urging exploration . The wetness was not dank , but uplifting ; encouraging all to go forth into a joyous world .
There is something memorable , especially in this dry part of the world , of walking over wet grass. It must be recalling England’s greenness and a childhood when rain was only fun. But here ,an intense sun burst from behind the clouds, turning water droplets into jewels and streaking this picture with shafts of light,and strong shadows . A morning stillness and silence completed the perfection . I stopped, breathing the freshness and trying to keep hold of this exceptional moment . The simplest things are often the best .
Oh no! the grass has been recently rotovated , sanglier had broken their way through the electric fence ; our grass must be greener ourside of this fence. This needs a prompt response or our greensward will soon turn into the Somme. A wire fence alone will not keep out these mobile bulldozers. Investigation determined that it was now possible to replace our placid electricity with something fierce : 15,000 volts instead of 8,000; with shocks lasting twice as long . That should certainly stimulate their senses. Perhaps they will arrive ‘bien cuit’. I can but hope.
But the day has more to offer . Scents from rose displays , wild flowers, and newly cut grass with wild fennel . A picture of days gone-by , the cutting done by hand with vintage ' faux avec pierre d'affûtage ' ( sythe ). Its owner nearly the same age !