The Hills Are Alive

With all sorts of wild flowers. Like asphodel, giant fennel, sulla, primrose and others whose name I do not know. The bees were out in their hundreds flitting from flower to flower and drinking in the precious, sweet nectar.

It was a perfect day for a picnic – the sun was shining but there was a cool westerly breeze blowing and chasing billowing, cottony clouds across the perfectly blue sky.

It’s my favourite time of the year – before all the greenery is gone and we are left with dry weeds, brown earth and a blinding, unnaturally white sky.

This is another ‘new’ place we’ve discovered. It’s just across the valley from where we live and yet, this it the first time that we have ventured here. An ideal spot for a picnic, totally by ourselves. My idea of bliss.

An unspoilt, open space where my  Mischief Maker could run and play and throw stones in puddles.

And on our way home, a glimpse of another idyllic spot waiting to be discovered. Maybe next time …

Photographed at Dwejra

March 2012