The other evening, the setting sun turned the sky ablaze before evolving into soft grays and pinks. The winds had been dramatic for about 36 hours (cyclonic, as San Geraldo would/did say) and they were still blowing (although much less) when I began my walk. By the time of the flaming sunset, all was calm.
I’ve been reading the usual blogs this week and my Canadian friends have been boasting of their spring-like weather. It’s been up to 9 degrees Celsius, they’ve said. That’s around 48F.
Well, we were DOWN to 8 degrees Celsius that one night and we weren’t calling it springlike. The word we used to describe the weather began with an “f”; and that’s not “fine.” Everything’s relative.
But don’t worry about us (as if you were). We headed back to Meson Salvador (San Geraldo in long underwear) and we come home feeling warm, loved, and over-stuffed!
|BLOWING IN THE WIND. (LEFT) MY FOOTPRINT WHEN I RETURNED FROM THE WATER.
(RIGHT) MY FOOTPRINT WHEN I HEADED TO THE WATER TWO MINUTES EARLIER.
|LOOKING NORTHEAST AT SUNSET|
|LOOKING NORTHWEST AT SUNSET.|
|PINK AND GRAY.|
|MEJILLONES (MUSSELS) AT MESON SALVADOR.
AND I LOVE
|THEY WERE OUT OF LITTLE MINI-MUFFINS FOR OUR COFFEE.
WE HAD TO MAKE DO WITH HOME-MADE CHEESECAKE BITES. WOE IS US.