It´s a beautiful day. Perfect.
The sky is a pure blue. No breaks or blends or clouds. Just an endless expanse of blueness.
It seems as if the palm trees have been strategically positioned by God (or man playing Him) to flutter their fronds against the sky.
If it weren´t for the shadows, the Spanish-tiled roofs would seem two-dimensional.
The colors here are so crisp.
Terracotta houses and white villas. Candy apple red geraniums nestled in vivid greenery. Flowers painted bright pink or orange or snow white.
The swimming pool water sparkles like undulating glass.
The southern coast of Spain is tropical desert.
Tufts of tough-looking brush dot the rocky sand dunes. Hills of powdered heat.
On a rock nearby sits a dull gray sandpiper. He looks much like a pencil smudge on an otherwise colorful canvas. But his song is clear and piercing.
And if sound had color, his song would be purple and gold....rising into the endless blue.