The daffodils are beginning to blossom. When I was a kid in Memphis, we called them Buttercups -- no one seems to know what I'm talking about when I say Buttercups. Walked a mile yesterday up a very steep driveway. Whew -- I was huffin & puffin to the top. I'm sure it will get easier. It better get easier. And to think I used to hike 3-10 miles in these mountains several times a week.
Barossa Valley, South Australia, Australia
The sun rises over Gloria Vineyards promising another scorching dry day. Rows of grapes stand like school children on an outing, straight lines, heads up, arms to side. Heavy with grapes the vineyard is ripe for harvesting. The cycle of planting, pruning, harvesting completed again, as it has for the past century and a half at Gloria Vineyard.
Gloria Annalis Baney waits in an open Jeep. She's twenty, as full and ripe as the grapes. This is my place, she mantras -- MY place. MY PLACE. In the distance red dust billows up like a mini-tornado. A line of trucks drive down the road bringing swarms of men with sharp blades and like locus they will strip the vineyard raw.
"Mine," she assures herself, and lays the rifle across her lap.
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Okay -- that's it for this morning. Super Bowl today -- GO PACKERS!
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