& youOn a mountain's peak a circular plateau accommodates an elaborately fashioned garden, replete with an exotic terrace styled by Gaudi's daughter. Even at such an altitude only an occasional breeze ripples through grass and trees making leaves jostle with patches of blue sky to form a crazy mosaic in your eyes. There is calm here; utter abandonment with no room for fear of things past. Across a chair you sprawl. An open-air platform lattice vines heavy with grapes ... The tablecloth is plush velvet & green, but variegated so that it might really be moss. Its fringe is soft as it brushes against your legs. Freshly brewed tea cries cinnamon and fine tobacco towards the sky ... Newly baked bread rolls, carefully plaited, sprinkled with caraway seeds, and steaming with heat, lay nestled in a cotton cloth waiting to be broken. A finely engraved bowl piled high with dark cherry conserve overflows ... Crimson syrup seeps beside your hands. 2 goblets dance with mother-of-pearl ... A vast expanse of sea glistens on your left, while in every other direction the most marvellous landscapes shimmer in the sun. The panorama changes from essentially Australian, to Elysian, to a collage of South America & somewhere in an English myth, or it might become Africa as imagined by Cynthia Nolan and Rimbaud, or Scandinavia with a touch of the sub-Antarctic and every once in a while there are surreal encounters of time, space and textual media as pages & canvases are remembered and reinvented, to merge with the light and life in which you are immersed.