Читать книгу Children of Light - Lucy English - Страница 13

Monday. Afternoon

When the sun comes out it is quite warm. Over the last few days the wind has dropped. It rained several times, mostly in the night. There’s a feeling of stillness and moisture around here. I have decided to look for orchids. I drew a map, probably not accurate, of all the terraces, and yesterday and today went searching. On the top terrace near the woods were two patches of early pink. Behind the hut was something purplish, without chlorophyll, I’m not sure what it’s called, like a butterbur, and nearer to the gully was a bee orchid hiding in the grass. It does indeed look like a bee, and felt like one too, sort of furry. Some botanical paper this is going to be! Three species and none of them rare.

I have started to give the terraces names. There’s the top terrace, the hut terrace, the rock rose terrace, the bee orchid terrace, the fig tree terrace, the washing line terrace and the vine terrace. I put the names on the map. It’s a lovely game mapping out my territory, naming my boundaries. It’s a pretty map. I used coloured pencils. I drew the hut with me standing outside, a stick person in red and purple clothes. Actually none of my clothes here are red or purple, everything’s brown, blue or green. I used to wear such bright clothes. What happened? Velvet and silk, faded embroidery. Midnight blue. Pollen yellow. I look at my jeans and my walking boots and I don’t want to wear them. Here is a list of the shrubs and trees I found growing on the terraces. Pine, olive, box, fig, cherry, myrtle, juniper, holly oak, oak, wild pear, laurel, rowan, wild plum, and near the gully wild apple. Cistus and helianthus on the top terrace, which is the sunniest one. I want to list all the plants as well, but I don’t know their names. I shall get a book from Draguignan.