My summer home

My shirt bung out to dry in the lavender breeze.
The house set in lavender hills.
The colour at dusk as the rounded tufts of green and blue begin to glow against the red earth.
As we walk our steps create a perfumed world, we carry armfuls of fragrance to put into drawers and baskets.
Some of the blue fragrances we carry back to Brooklyn so that when we wake to the shrill of police car sirens we know that lavender breeze still carresses the bills in Alpera.
Jim Bird

Beauty, it is assumed, is a most admirable thing, a desirable thing that delights the eye and the heart, a thing that seems to dwell somwhere between dream and reality.
It is the key in the door that we should be afraid to open in case as with that most exotic and wonderfully perfumed flower
“Deadly Nightshade” we find the product of so much beauty
is the deadly poison “Belladona”.

Jim Bird, 1998