Here we are. The leaves are starting to turn and drift down in the wind. Pumpkins, diakon and brussel sprouts are for sale at Farmer's Market and the children are already anticipating Halloween. The summer was wonderful- longer days in which to eat more watermelon, swim more, laze more, dream more- and now, it is finished. In Portuguese, the word is Saudade, a feeling that dominated a good portion of my twenties and makes an apperance in my life every autumn. It is a longing for that which one knows is lost, or sometimes for that which never existed. It takes like ginginha (a sour cherry brandy for sale on the street corners of Lisbon) and roasted chestnuts wrapped in newspaper. It sounds like Amalia Rodrigues and it feels like lambswool- appealing, warm, a little itchy. Here are some photos taken on a recent trip to Europe. Lucien and the fruits of summer. Thank you universe, they were delicious. Tenho saudades tuas.
