Octopus hanging out to dry. There aren't many images that scream summer more than this for me. While I'm most reminded of Greece, I took my picture in southern Thailand late one steamy midsummer afternoon before it rained. I was admiring some summer images taken in my favorite Moroccan seaside town when I stumbled across a blog I've now become smitten with, an especially inspiring journal about a young woman's journey as she builds a magical guesthouse in Marrakesh that is as much about 'place' as it is about 'travel'. The author is Maryam who seems lovely but her blog is irresistible. She's a kindred spirit who loves Essaouira as much as I do and I adore her enchanting writing about everyday moments and her poetry about places. Read her 'rickshaw reveries' in Dhaka:
Give me the open air!
Give me the wind in my hair!
Give me the color, give me the kitsch,
give me the one-of-a-kind!
But what I most love are her musings about her dying summer holiday in Essaouira.
Our Summer in Essaouira. It came and then it was a-snap-of-the-fingers over.
Did we spend it as we should have? Did we rest enough? Did we play enough?
The picnics - should there have been more?
Did we skip enough stones?
Did we collect enough shells?
Did we jump enough waves?
Don't we ask ourselves if we did enough at the end of every summer vacation? Did we dry enough octopus? Does she inspire you to go to Dhaka or Essaouira? Don't you just want to pack your bags right now?