APRIL GARRIGUE
Wind your way up, little footpath along rockrose and lentisk and dodge the ageing orchis gone dull and dry. I’m seeking the shade of the twin holm oak and tread on acorns that winter forsook. Dead leaves crackle under my foot and the pine-tree wafts its warm resin away. Snake your way up, little footpath among the thyme and dappled shade of a dashed springtime. mp