The Latin poet Horace would have been proud.
The weather was sparkling, the pique nique was planned, the swimsuits were packed.
Off we went to my idyllic spot,through foresty roads and golden hills.easy parking, the place was amazingly empty on such a gorgeous day.Against the fence , we plopped our necccesary collection of beach chairs, umbrella, cooler and Sunday paper. Then I went for a swim. The water was unusually warm and at the same time invigorating and healing.I spotted a woman next to us and noticed that she was wearing the same bathing suit. not holding back, I started talking to her which led to eventually exchanging numbers for a possible house swap.....carpe diem number 3....After lunch, another swim against the small waves, letting my hair get wet like the underwater blades of kelp.
On the way there I had noticed the roadside table of organic cider and apples and remember a time some years back, when we had stopped before and bought some. New, fresh apples just picked from the backyard of the red house with the bleating sheep.So, on our way home, we stopped again, and got a couple of pounds of the crispy sweet beauties.