Rose Blumen ~ Exogignesthai 506. Blooming flowers, 8

(Grape)

I spent a long ti sleeping. Too long a ti. Rise and shine, sleepyhead!

I wake up for the good season. I’m already feeling rry before my body awakens.

I’m smiling happily, blissful as I rise. My cheeks are already flushed with happiness.

All is still dark around , but this doesn’t bring a single shade to my heart.

The day will be beautiful, and I’m sure my harvest will be bountiful.

I hear the hums of the machines and flows outside my nest.

I exit my comfy lair, I stretch my human looking arms, legs, shoulders and neck. I giggle as so popping sound co out. Such rusty chanics.

I still wear the light dress from last year, but the cloth has aged. It’s in rags now. Oh well!

I just laugh at my appearance and walk over the soft carpet of dust heading outside.

~

I see stars, and dawn.

Bright cheery contrasted colours. I wish I could paint them. These twilight landscapes between the sea and the land are great. I love them.

I love my life.

I giggle alone, laughing of myself with myself. I love that.

Solitude doesn’t hurt as it should. Possibly because I’m my own embodint of rrint.

I’m beginning to giggle again. Like fairies returning each year to bring Spring forth, I have awoken again, to enjoy being tipsy all the ti.

I laugh at my nonsensical wandering thoughts. I woke up, because I’m still alive, and that makes happy.

G - I have returned this year again!

And I just laugh there enjoying the sunrise.

~

After calming down a bit, just a tiny bit, from the awakening euphoria, I climbed the path to the edges of the dam.

The wild vineyards have grown well since last year. They’ve slowly conquered maybe a kilotre of desert over the years. The grapes are ripe, so I woke up. Like spirits of spring, I return to my buds of wine.

I just have to smile and open my heart to my brethren, and they eagerly work with . We’re connected.

The enchanted vines lose their previous fruits, that gently roll by themselves along the slopes of the vineyards.

I peacefully walk among them, and the good fruits co to join us by themselves.

I twirl, dancing a little just to myself. The earth is still mostly complex sand, but it is becoming more firm over the years and floral growth.

I like the slight temperature changes under my feet as I walk and dance there.

At the end and bottom of that slope, the fallen grapes roll inside a small channel I’ve dug and built the very first year of my awakening in this ho.

Maybe one day, my friends from the traveling year before will co to visit again. Who knows? It’s a strange world out there, over the foreboding seas.

Maybe they will, maybe they won’t.

I’ll be happy still even if they don’t.

I’ll be very happy if they do. Ti will tell alone. Not .

I giggle, running after my rolling grapes gathering in the channel near the edge above the sea.

Whatever cos, I will enjoy myself.

~

I spend leisurely days gathering the fruits.

I spend peaceful days washing them and filling tanks of them.

I spend happy days separating the juices from the pulpy flesh.

I spend rry days returning the flesh I don’t need to the earth that grows them.

I repeat these steps until all grapes are harvested and processed.

Then I spend orgasmic days turning the juices into wines. That’s the part I love most.

It gives intense pleasure to physically turn the juices I float in into spirits.

My own flesh and soul are the most wonderful catalysts. Sweet slls beco even sweeter and fulfil with happiness and pleasure.

Then, once I’m back from the euphoria, I seal the wine into as many bottles as I can.

Well, the truth is, I’ve ran out of empty bottles a long ti ago.

But I’ve planted trees on the other side of the dam that make up for it.

~

I cross over the bridge, now reinforced with specific roots.

The small forest that grows there has mostly trees of a species I created to solve my bottle issue.

And a few other species that invited themselves in. Fine by , eh eh eh!

These trees grow a fruit that is a hollow and hard shell, similar to a coconut, though shaped more like an egg, bigger, and with much thinner shell.

These fruits don’t really hold a lot of juice, but the point is they provide with a container that can hold and perfu my wines.

And the sap of the trees gives a sweet glue to seal them easily. I didn’t bother with corks; once a bottle fruit of wine is opened, it must be finished at once!

I giggle, filling my net with the bottle fruits I plucked.

I saw a butterfly for the first ti in my life.

New flowers must have settled sowhere close.

My dam is a haven and heaven after all.

I spend sweet days filling bottles of wine and drinking so.

~

I sigh greatly with a blissful smile, now completely drunk.

I burp and then laugh into the night.

The difference between my usual tipsiness and being fully drunk is an intensity. I’m even more intensely happy to be alive here.

I drink under the sun and I drink under the stars. I am made of wine and I made so more.

I laugh. I smile as I sigh. Fuzzy, warm, happy.

Usually, I return to hibernate downstairs once the harvest is done.

I could already live on for years with all the stocks I have produced and stockpiles. But usually I don’t bother staying awaken too long and return to my sweet dream until the next good season.

But this year, maybe there’s sothing different in the air...

Even though my work is now done, I think I’ll wait and enjoy the sunrises and sunsets a while longer, with cheers to spare.

~