I look at my phone’s new wallpaper and try to figure out what exactly is drawing me to this image.
Is it the name? Is it the shadow of the trees on the wall?
The fleeting dance of the leaves looks like the sound of summer.
That part of the year when it’s not spring, not winter.
Nothing agitates waiting for something to be born, the earth is already awake. A valley between two mountains. There’s no gathering of the crops.
There is no numbness from staying in the cold too long.
There is just the air, the water, the wind and you.
No explaining, no urgency, just being.
The almost perfect first detail of an almost perfect home?
Under Neobeach, in smaller font, it says South Africa. Which makes me think of South America and the Bossa Nova radio station, and of the beach again.
I could almost feel the grass from the patio underneath my feet.
Maybe I should go South. My soul seems to slide easily into warmer lands from another dimension, every time I get a hint of sea like landscapes, hanging on to any detail excuse to stay there…
Are my genes initially from the Southern Hemisphere?
Was my travelling as energy and matter always better by the sea?
I think about my Beach Homes album at home. Just when you think things couldn’t get any better, they do.