The Laneway by Frances Daggar Roberts

The Laneway by Frances Daggar Roberts You can measure the weight of Italian Autumn days in flowers and colours. This day is ochre-shaded with a heavy drugging perfume of ripe fruit. We walk down the narrow cobbled ways familiar now with clumps of weeds, the corners where dogs defecate, the fences where grapes hang withinContinue reading “The Laneway by Frances Daggar Roberts”