small things

heaven is

The roar of the Atlantic. The smell of wild thyme, rosemary and sea salt. Green hills dotted with violet, blue, magenta, and yellow. Cerulean skies with white wisps of clouds that form elongated fish.



The wind in your hair, the sun on your face. A loved one's laugh.



I'll say it again: Portugal is intoxicating. Now, Spring in Portugal...
My, oh my.

the reward of spring

Spring in Istanbul is a most magical time. The hills blush with erguvan and cherry blossoms, and millions of tulips of all hues unfold with a gentle stretch across the city. The bitterness of winter fades from memory as the Bosphorus turns from grey to the deepest blue, and birds mark the sky as they return from their journeys to far-off places. 

flora

blossoming

Sometime during my recovery from what my doctor charmingly referred to as the "goat flu" (as there can't possibly be any swine flu in Muslim countries), Spring decided to unfurl her arms around our grey city. Little green buds and pink blossoms have erupted on bare branches that stretch toward an inconsistent sky— cumulus and cirrus sweep across blues and greys, pinks and peaches. Istanbul in the springtime is a positively magical place; full of colour, birdsong and warmth— and I don't just mean the actual temperature— people's faces are softened, smiles and laughter seem to pop up everywhere, like cherry blossoms.



As my flu winds down and my workload is lightened, I look forward to stepping out in a light printed dress, the sun on my arms and the smell of flowers and sea in my head.
Happy Spring!

petals

Petals float gently
Light curving into colour
I stand by, smiling.

Stunning flower arrangements at my favourite restaurant in Boudha, Garden Kitchen.

the park in fog

the de young tower / silhouette / a murder of crows / nasturtium
a path / a face / ghostly conservatory
symmetry / yellow / petals spear upward / dahlia