A precious gift from the garden – the very first cherry tomato of the season. With shades of orange, it looks like a tiny setting sun. It is firm and makes a lovely plomp sound as I crush it with my teeth. It tastes of breezy and warm hair-tousled days.
Stormy clouds parade across the sky. A thunder rumbles in the Julian Alps. Crickets fall silent and scuttle in their holes. The forest stands still and holds its breath in the anticipation of the refreshing gift. I throw open the windows to let in the fresh air, heavily perfumed with forest humus, leaves and bark, still warm from the morning sun.