The roof is made of rounded heavy orange clay tiles. They are lichen stained in patches of green,grey and black. The shutters and doors are heavy oak with iron bars to reinforce. The stone walls are 2 feet thick and rise up from the earth forming a kind of cave entrance into the hillside. There are no screens. The bedroom window opens out to steep olive groves rolling down like waves toward the flat yellow valley below. The wind surges and whistles through the hard scape and the heavy shutters bang on the stone. The House and land merge together into one. I am living in the earth, in stone, wood, clay and glass, made by man from the earth. The sun burns above and bakes below, but these dense walls of stone and the broad limbs of the trees are holding back it furry. A cooling breeze moves within the house, refreshing my spirit.
June 18, 2017