almost eleven o'clock

miss the summer sun and the heat, the sticky palms and dusty streets. the late light nights having picnic in the park, bringing food and sparkling wine, knowing it will never get dark. longing for new trips, adventures with the ones I hold so dear, and others I wish to come near. remembering the odors of blossom and sunblock, the spray of salty ocean and the lukewarm evening. thinking of the time yet to come, trying to remember the color of perfect flowering flame-like laburnum.
all pictures taken by me.