Frenchhusband and I took the motorcycle out for a spin. The first act of spring! With our coats unbuttoned and scarves left aside, we headed towards the sea.
Riding up the Route de Crete, with the blue sea lapping in the distance, the almond trees in pink bloom, and the wild irises waving– it seemed Spring was shouting out her name, at every bend.
The soil overturned ready for planting, the vineyards neatly trimmed, the air soft on my skin…
Winding along the rivera, with my arms tighly around Frenhhusband waist, the gentle swaying of the motorcycle on each turn, I felt happy inside, I shouted out on the top of my lungs, "SPRING!"
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