A SOUTH-FACING ROOM
THE AIR IS STILL MILD, BUT WE CAN ALREADY FEEL THAT SUMMER IS NOT FAR AWAY.
THE SMELL OF WARM GRASS, THAT LIGHT THAT STRETCHES A LITTLE LONGER EACH EVENING.
THE SOUTH IS NOT A SETTING
IT'S A RHYTHM.
The one of cicadas at noon, of lingering meals, of the sea heard but not seen.
A sweetness that has intensity.
A slowness that has taste.