even from this side of the volcano the sirocco wind can be felt
and it rouses me now to wakefulness
- alerting me to the present
after so long, allowing warmth to enter
my muscles and my bones and for my skin
to feel a deepening connection to this landscape
and up here, on this volcano
I pause, looking back over towards San Bartolomé -
a broad expanse of fields interrupted
by the monumental white towers of the wind turbines -
their strange comfort and familiarity
as their aerofoil blades slowly turn
always helping you place
exactly where you are -
vast open skies above the undulating
sweep of potatoes and corn,
ripening despite the drought -
so few boundaries, no fences, no hedges
only wide fields glazed
in filmic light -
this is my present landscape
downloading into my current self
and these days,
I have been changing: recording, editing, rewinding,
continuing this quiet exchange
as now, a small butterfly flounces by,
also pulled and directed by the warm sirocco wind -
with brilliant electric cerulean wings that out-blue the sky
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