Standing beside the sunlit vineyard after the storm, the other day, I noticed a few bugs floating by on the slight breeze. Lovely day. I’m at work, talking away (politely) to clients and trying not to drift off into watching the kestrel floating down the valley, or the Sardinian warblers bickering in the olive tree. Now I find that, as I look over into the vineyard I can see plumes of insects rising from it, the wings catching the light. It looks bright and hopeful to see them drifting up into the air. I wonder what they are. One of my clients yelps and bats at something floating onto his ear, knocking it down. “Don’t worry,” I say hastily, “Only a flying ant.”
We think of autumn, we think of autumn colours. And in spite of non-stop sunshine and warm summery days, plantlife in Málaga is also thinking of autumn. The poplars and larches are turning yellow, the vine-leaves are turning red and brown, the seedheads are nodding on the verges, attracting a world of noisy finches.