I would admire the pale blue walls of the house, the way the palm trees moved in the wind, the strange succulents in the terraced garden -
One morning we visited the house - but all of its doors were closed to us - shutters were drawn across each high window -
The mazey streets of the town brimmed with sunlight -
I smelt the scent of Brazil on the warm wind -
Rich dreams were blowing in from the sea - fragrant shadows were dancing inside the blue house -
11.30
Saturday 28 March 2015
The Blue House
San Miguel de Abona
Tenerife
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