A few sunlight yellow grape leaves clung to the vines. Their fruit is aging in wooden barrels all over the Canton. The vineyards alternated with square fields of frothy lavender flowers. I have no idea what they are, but they must serve some use considering the evenness and volumes with which they were planted.
A few sail boats bobbed on the lake below the fields their white sales matching the ribbon of clouds resting on top of the Saleve and hiding the Alps. Above the sky was brilliant blue. Only a twinge of cold air touched my cheeks as I said bonjour to the people also out on walks. Their dogs, frisky and happy to be free, raced up and down the paths between the fields.
The walk was a writing break on a stay-at-home-and-write-and-catch-up-on-paperwork weekend and a reminder of why I love being in Switzerland.
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