Fields of yellow-blooming rape (Brassica napus) are everywhere,

Monday nine

Deeper sleep than the usual doze, ended by the telephone's sound.

It is bright outside, morning has broken.

Bathroom and wash, the orchid is doing well. Five white blooms.
Brush the teeth, decide that the brown jacket will be enough for today.
There will be no rain.

The cat comes into the bedroom, a purr# for a greeting, and wanders on into the kitchen..

Search for a comb, find it, brush the hair, and out into the street, down the alley, pass by the church and go through the town gate to the bus stop.






The sun is rising over the river, and a cyclist passes by, on the promenade.



Dolores is at the stop, sitting in the shelter, looking more comfortable than usual.
It is so much warmer today then on other days during the past weeks.

Inside the cafe at the station, confrontation with the usual chaos, the black haired girl coping badly with the daily onslaught of customers.
The woman ahead in the queue asks for chocolate powder on her cappuccino coffee, and with a careless gesture the powder is spread all over the cup and the table

Monday morning mishap'. °

The routine of the daily work, this routine returned after a long weekend
The sun is now illuminating the land scape passing the 'windows of the train brightly, the shadows are still blue with reflection from the sky.
Fields of yellow-blooming rape (Brassica napus ) are everywhere, a monoculture, are amid the varying s shades of green of the more natural vegetation.

Summer is well on its way.