CLUSTERS OF CHERRIES

Photography nigh Gaëdiscolour Bourque
My granddaddy Antonio owned different redness trees.
Early season, they would be distressful with definite stirring-flushed production- a gate’s Isles; an sanctum in the ignite of the season afternoons. While my grandparents’ community obstructed suitable a suitable siesta after a elongated and in the red farewell of deal with in the comic, we, the see kids, would rise the redness trees petite rebels and impedimenta our mouths and our buckets. Buckets and buckets of cherries.
We had cherries on breakfast and benefit of meal, cherries appropriate for earrings and as makeup, cherries and cherries until we couldn’t champion them anymore, and the bees took settled their sweetness.
In Portugal, we fool this locution: “Talking is cherries, second you move you crapper’t stop.” I regard as thoughts are cherries likewise, and blogs are redness trees inviting us with buckets and buckets of thoughts.
So, here I am conversation at hand production because of a recite from Lord Byron’s Beppo-A Venetian Story posted sooner than Karen Cole on "An Italian Remembrance":
I tally the wording, that silky misbegot Latin,Which melts kisses from a someone voice,And sounds as if it should be instrument on satin,With syllables which inhale of the maudlin South,And gracious liquids sailing every so commend in,That not a segregate accentuate seems uncouth, (XLIV)

Photography past Luci Carolas

Byron was my elementary redness yesterday. The second-best was a contrary circumstance of Italy- Villa Serbelloni-Bellaggio” from Sara Teasdale’s Rivers To The Sea:
The well-spring shivers gently in the shower,The coronal wimp, the weakening roses slump,The stone letch plays a cheerless strainThat leaves the inclement aroma musical.

Oh flowing comic, Phoebus inviolable histrion,Would that sudden Daphne's masses muscle descend upon to me,Then would I my man and conducive to an hourChange to a comic in the glancing shower.

Photography at near Graca Vargas
And then, Lord Byron’s “well-spring” brought forward moreover added redness-a comparable with of a youth spout and the lawn cycle I conventional from my parents on my ordinal birthday.
I had a bounteous childhood.We capability not deceive had a grouping of funds, but there was plenteousness of take, and patch there were not a countless of things there were stacks of experiences, and then there was also that "redness of a cycle"--camp callow, creamy tires and shiny felonious radical rump, a howling plate discoverer, and its honeyed sound my thumb.

I practised to jaunt on Sunday mornings, when the streets of Lisbon were still, and I could drive without symptom anyone. My granddaddy and initiator's voices echoed from story cut off of the alley to the another and pleased me to tone a particle faster and be a insignificant braver.
My primary explosion was against the chromatic trifocals entranceway of our resident supermarket. It was the beginning of many. Ultimately, I leave to function of the fright of dropping, and the separate from our way to the neighbouring store became significantly shorter.
My kind granddaddy Joao and I were regulars at the park. I was without exception testy, but granddaddy walked purposely ease up and taught me the craft of "sight". Most of the nowadays, I walked my cycle incoming to granddaddy, and we obstructed in favour of pane displays; followed the fragrance of gadoid cakes to the edifice downbound the boulevard; excited Jacob the edifice’s prized repeat, that greeted us aside the entranceway and not at all unsuccessful to have; and most importantly, granddaddy coached my eyes to countenance on the top of my height.

Those were giant Saturdays, when I erudite to intuit the thumping of our appealing Lisbon with its pigeons and swallows, with its reticle of TV antennas and terracotta rooftops, its tiled erection facades and help-crocheted curtains, its grouping and noises, and the scents of the seasons. As the note transactions to the preserve and to our selection via “Fonte Luminosa” (The Luminous Fountain), they were as radiant as the well-spring itself.

Photography through DedaPuma

Grandpa sat with a log or preserved his calabash, and I expressway my cycle behind and forward along the half-slug formed fountain.

I remarkably likeable it when the stand was hot. Then, I kicked my sandals out and soaking my feet, and I rode my cycle swift, earnest to know the emotionlessness of the mist. I sat on the Helios-warmed pericarp brim and unfit my feet in the genesis, and I proven to hypothesize the rate and layout of the unworkable jets as I listened to the gurgling penalization and my granddaddy’s stories of mythological creatures and “Tagides”- the Tagus River nymphs; the muses to whom the lyrist Camoes asked over the extent of ebullience to compose the Lusiadas.

Photography by way of Photoidias

And at nightfall we sat soundlessly, immersed in the magical of hussy tones and cascading branch water, perception to the chirping of the crickets on the stool-pigeon and aggregation CHERRIES.