My Town

My town is lovely.

Sometimes, I forget how lovely it is.

While driving to work, I forget to take in the views...

On weekends, I often avoid the crowds...

Crowds - that's laughable, really...

The town is so lovely that people drive in to spend the weekend...

But, there's more than enough room for everyone.

Ancient fig trees stretch across the sky.

To the west, rolling hills carry my eyes

across grazing animals and old stone walls.

There's a lighthouse, standing tall and proud...

The ocean wraps around the eastern side of my town.

The beaches are lovely and there are several to choose from.

There's even a bay, with gently lapping waves.

In rough weather, the waves pound against the wall,

spraying water across the path.

Jumping from the sudden walls of water makes me feel young again.

My town is famous for its two blowholes.

On cold, windy days, with an angry ocean,

waves of water are pushed through a hole in the rocks

and sent spurting into the air.

The wind blows the water, spraying anyone who has dared to step too close.

The whooshing noise of the blowhole creates much excitment and anticipation.

The people in my town are friendly

and ready with a smile.

My town is lovely.