Morning raucous of neighbourhood crows bring me blinking onto the balcony. Hazy silhouette of not so distant mountain across the blue grey bowl of Lac Leman, filled with holy waters of pure snow melt. Each day the view changes clothes; moody greens, granite blues, peaks and ravines revealed or coquettishly concealed in mantles of cloud, slung low over shoulders, or completely shrouded. In winter, she wears sugar coating, of course, it’s the fashion.
Early afternoon, magnolias bloom and bud and burst into debutante blush. With pink faced determination, in pale promise, they manage to lift my heart from the sludge of winter dullness. This naked, first blush, pressed against still slate grey skies, for the most part, will be brief, but enough to revive those curious yellows. They peek out from beneath broken earth and early grasses; the posies of primroses, profuse patches of daffodils, sprays of daisies preceding dandelion weeds. Next will come the wilful tulips, deliberated planted in sculpted beds by industrious gardeners, but lets us not get ahead of this moment.
Triumphant trills of promiscuous birds; a lively mayhem of mating rituals. I take my coffee out on to the terrace and timidly remove layers of clothing, risking goosebumps for a dainty taste of Spring on my tender skin. It’s a sin. “Enleve pas un fil en avril…” as they say here. But this is Lausanne at its best and I’m excited. I’ve survived.
Ditch the tourist pics of snow and slopes, cheese and chocolates, cowbells and watches. This is bees knees! This is champagne fizzes! This is sweet nectar. The scent of summer on the breeze comes, from a distance, I’ll admit, but defiantly detected. I take a great, fat, grateful breath of it….and….and …and begin to sneeze. Damn, I always forget this bit!!
brief blushes brush blues; timid
rays tiding Summer
Napowrimo Day 12:- its’ a haibun to day! Here’s mine!