5th smallstone Jan 2012

 wind from the north, via Fleurance , Puycasquier, past the garden where roses wait to be pruned, around the atelier of the aged mechanic, competing with the sound of his drill   -and here in our garden  it sweeps the passiflora into parabola shapes, whips stray leaves into the fields and perhaps back again , brushes our faces, leaving a taste of January