Spying Out the Land

 I walk late afternoon with my phone on a strap around my neck, camera ready, trekking stick in hand. Sometimes I listen to music or a podcast.  I stop and stare through fences into empty yards.  I'm the neighbourhood spy, letting K know what's happening, who's out and about, which dogs barked at me. Nothing much happens around here. The same dogs bark at me and I tell them off.  They should know me by now. 

Finding something of interest to photograph is becoming increasingly difficult. Half the houses are empty.  Their owners only come for a few weeks in the summer

Olive harvest has begun. That's something different

Off street parking 

End of the pomegranate season

Out in the wop wops. Houses across the ravine, amongst olive groves and pine forest

Dead end? Road works?  The signs don't stop convoys of quad bikes roaring past

Walking with my marmalade friend. I have a handful of biscuits in my pocket if I'm walking his way. He'll follow me, complaining all the way if I forget them.

The other side of our wall. The grapevine needs pruning. After New Year 

Fertile plateau called Fousa with its small vineyard parcels turning from a dry brown to a lush green

Is it possible to get excited over a rubbish bin?  Yes, indeed.  This one is at the top of our road. We no longer have to load up the car and drive 2 kilometres with our rubbish.  Everytime I go for a walk I take a bag of rubbish with me.  We have to make sure the council knows it's used and appreciated.