Beauty

It's just a flower, an iris, one of many in my neighbor's garden. If it looks erotic I cant help it. Everything around here is looking splendid. The roses are going almost insane with blooms and the catalpa trees with their twelve inch leaves and bunches of incredibly fragrant blossoms are dropping them everywhere. The first crop of figs are swelling on the branch and my quince tree is loaded with baby quinces. A flock of ibis are patrolling the village, following the ditches which flood each property through a system of gates which are organised in a kind of hit or miss way. In short the place is so unutterably beautiful why am I leaving for more heat and humidity? I dont know. I should stay until the heat really kicks in and then make a run for the hills. It is impossible I think for me to acknowledge that I have found a place where I feel as at home as a stranger can. And hey! there is a coffee house gallery performance space in town! That'll make a change from the truck stop for casual dining out.
And a dog has adopted me. She is completely wild and has no concept of civilised canine behaviour. I cant take her on a road trip. She'd chew up the van and run away, besides I couldn't get her in the van. I think she is much happier wandering free, scrounging food and taking long swims in the ditches, but she lives under the van most of the time and tries to get into the yard. She is a really sweet and pretty dog. My dog thinks she's OK.
Jack needs a home again. I dont wish to discuss this situation right now. Later.