©2011 Mardi Speth All Rights Reserve • Watercolour & Ink
The evening was ripe with wondrous floral scents riding on the zephyr. We followed, through endless groves of foxglove and faerie lore, towards Diego's. Light from the fireflies, like beacons from tiny lighthouses, guided our footsteps. Though we never caught a single one, the night pulsated with magic.