A surge. An unaccountable quantity of raspberries piling on the pressure to be processed. Jam the likely destination. In recent times strawberries, mulberries, peas, early spuds, nettles, weeds, finally a deliverance of eggs from the new hens and finally a comeback of cherries after a few years in drought. All typically in our final time, a fond farewell to distract from all the packing.
Now word has spread,
an in-different shrug and gossip provides alternative reasons as to why we are going. Time will move on with or without us here in it's beautiful slowness, seasons coming and going the only changes noticeable. Simple and delicious with nature taking care.
I can't wait to not have to tempt my life whilst crossing the zebra's in the town, and a chance not to have to worry how garbled my language ability is in Slovak. But it pales into insignificance compared with all the moments we've had here whether rough or smooth. We are two very altered individuals from the experience, only for the wiser.
And now the people come for a day or more, many wishing to have our shoes on, but many not daring just yet.