The last few mornings have felt like I’m back in east-central Europe. I’m not sure if it is because for the past several years, I’ve been in that part of the world about this time of the year, so the light is making me feel displaced, or because I’m immersed in a quasi-Russian mental world at the moment as well as reading lots of Russian history, or because I’m starting to do route planning for a Europe trip for this time next year (maybe. Possibly. I’ve got dates set and am looking at airline and hotel options but I’m not making reservations or anything like that until after the summer. Because [long list of things to watch]).
But for the past week or so, I’ve woken up at 0545, fed Her Royal Lowness, and headed out to go walking with a distinct sense of not quite being in the Texas Panhandle. It has been far more humid than is usual, with temps in the mid to upper 60s (very much like in Germany in 2014, when I hiked up the mountain before breakfast and looked out over the Main from a castle, then went back to my hotel which dated from the 1100s.)
There have been low to medium clouds with several striking gold-amathyst-blazing metallic pink sunrises, and then the light shifts to a gold that washes over everything, turning the greens of the trees golden green. That too reminds me a little of some mornings in the Czech Republic and Germany and Austria.
The morning scents were richer, more flowers on the breeze. Sweetbriar carries father in humid air, and I suspect other flowering plants are adding to the smell.