We picked our way down the mountain through the fog which eventually lifted at the same time as the trees grew taller and the snow poles marking the edge of the road grew shorter. Simultaneously the temperature rose to a very warm 30C by the time we reached the valley below.
This is what I think of as gold and blue country ... we are now in the dryer inland where the grassland plains dry gold in the heat and blue mountains frame the scene.
Musing:
"The Mountain sat upon the Plain
In his tremendous Chair --
His observation omnifold,
His inquest, everywhere --
The Seasons played around his knees
Like Children round a sire --
Grandfather of the Days is He
Of Dawn, the Ancestor --"
Very nice landscape! It could be here :-)
ReplyDeleteThat's interesting. I have not thought of Portugal looking like this.
ReplyDeleteI like both these images, the photo and the poem. Again, I don't think I'm familiar with this poem. I love the image of the throne.
ReplyDelete