Mediterranean breeze... more...

When the breeze is from the south, a difference. Undefinable smells, perhaps from Spain, or the Pyrenees, I don't know. But an inmistakable humidity, a warmth in the air that foreshadows a perfect evening.

When the breeze is from the north, something else. Freshness, almost of stone and dry trees. If sand had a smell, this would be it. But the breeze rarely blows from the north.

And when the breeze doesn't blow? Ah, but there is always a breeze. This perfect breeze, bringing reminders and sensations and messages from other corners. the softest tongue of air, this breeze, lapping at the face, lapping at the bare shoulders of handsome women, tickling the indifferent legs of contented men.