I'm fascinated by cotton fields. There are none near here, but en route to the coast we pass through a cotton growing area. The fields always make me think of slavery, but the plant itself is such a pretty thing. A little squishy puff of white. Just like you had pulled it out of a box.
And of course, the traditional self-portrait :-)
The Kindred Spirit mailbox is hidden up in the dunes a good walk down the beach. The box is filled with blank journals and pens for wanderers to leave a message. I've never written anything, but like to sit and read what others have to say. Often the messages are to loved ones gone, sometimes to new loves. There must be someone who comes and collects the filled journals. I wonder if there is a Kindred Spirit publishing house?
The Vrana clan hard at work preparing the feast.
Liz and Paul (the other Canadian couple :-) finding space for one more bite...
When we got home, the Ginkgo had not only turned colour, but had dropped all her leaves into a beautiful yellow blanket around her trunk :-)
