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“The air had borrowed wind from the wildernesses of our hills. It had stolen the fragrance from the jasmines and was blowing it around as its own. It carried the scent of crushed grapes from the surrounding grapevines and released it in occasional whiffs. The saffron fields were in full bloom, it was spring.” — Mukta Singh-Zocchi
The air had borrowed wind from the wildernesses of our hills. It had stolen the fragrance from the jasmines and was blowing it around as its own. It carried the scent of crushed grapes from the surrounding grapevines and released it in occasional whiffs. The saffron fields were in full bloom, it was spring.