Day 80: The first wave of Spring seems to have crashed. For one magnificent, surreal week everything, EVERYTHING, was fresh and new. Now the first flowers are wilting and the blossoms from the fruit trees are falling all over the place. The pale almost luminous greens of the new foliage in the forest is gradually darkening, filling out the skeleton of branches and filling in the spaces so that the paths become defined and all else mysterious.

Meanwhile my linguistic credibility dropped even lower last night. A friend organized for us to see a production in English, which is part of the European Theatre Festival. However this was a production of The Changeling, written in 1620. Everyone else seemed to know what was going on thanks to the subtitles in German, which I must admit I did refer to now and then to piece together some comprehension of what was going on and who was who! Otherwise, it took as much concentration as German classes to follow. Oh well :-)

And now hither, to my unfulfilled yet well loved surface to colour and excite, sirrah sirrah. (time to paint the wall...)