Wollspatz

day." John stretches his long legs comfortably towards the fireplace, where a warm fire crackles, while the October storm rages around the cottage.
His neighbor Ian brought over the ordered bottle of the finest overseas rum this morning, and this evening is the perfect opportunity to open it, even though John usually drinks Cognac. Later, Mary will have a glass too; right now she is baking his beloved cinnamon cookies to celebrate the day. The scent of cinnamon blends with the tobacco from his pipe and the aroma of rum. With the pipe in the corner of his mouth, John lifts the glass into the firelight and watches the golden-brown sparkle with fascination. Golden-brown and shiny, like the coat of his favorite mare Ginger. Today, her first foal was born, and the little sturdy colt promises to be the spitting image of his father Pepper. John just went to the stable again, brought the horses a good load of hay, and gently stroked the mare's forehead.
"Well done, my girl."
Here comes Mary with the cinnamon cookies. She uses a special recipe with plenty of vanilla. Of course, strictly secret.
John loves these cinnamon cookies....and Mary....the horses....
What a wonderful day.

I stroll through the oriental market with a smile on my lips. A thousand little, colorful, sparkling butterflies flutter around me as I wander from stall to stall. Here, there are juicy peaches. Mandarins, plums. Over there, a vendor offers tuberoses, freesias, heliotropes, and mimosas in lush splendor. At the spice merchant, I purchase a vanilla tea and leave the market. Next to an ancient cedar, there is a bench in the sun where I enjoy the tea. I can still catch the kaleidoscope of scents from the market, and the colorful glittering butterflies are still around. But they no longer flutter so wildly. Some sit on my shoulder, happily waving their wings in the sun, and I am still smiling. The basket with the fruits, flowers, and spices I bought is heavy, but throughout the long journey home, I look forward to this lovely visit to the market and to unpacking the treasures. Later, when the sun sets.