I’m trying to catalogue the wildflowers on the farm. I don’t know more than a few of the names – poppies, daisies, and vetch, (amapolas, margaritas, and arveja) which means the plan is fundamentally flawed. In winter I’ll order a book and look them up. For now I’ll continue wandering through the fields in the evenings being amazed with a sense of purpose. These flowers, which arrived in mid-April, are starting to fade out, but a new batch of May flowers is taking over.
I invited Antonio to bring his sheep and eat some of them, but a dog barking in the next field spooked the flock, and the sheep, all 120 of them, set off running, udders swinging, bells clanking, out of the field and down the track. I hope we try again; I liked the sound of them.
What I should be doing in the fields is hacking at the weeds at the base of the olives with a hoe, but I prefer taking pictures of flowers.