This handcrafted iron gate, conjures up visions of artisans of ages gone by, toiling to exact perfection; to create a rock-anchored, impenetrable edifice. Standing here, clenching the scroll work, I am moved by the intrinsic, cold strength of the grilled scrolls in the palms of my hands. Upon further reflection, my eye is inevitably drawn to the rock archway. I can almost hear a whispering voice, beckoning me to enter….“Lean on my gate. Push gently, just enough to allow entry. Come with me through my shadowed arches; beyond which you will surely find respite, in my sun-drenched secret garden.”
Thanks. In Eze, France, it is difficult not to get a beautiful shot. I was waiting for the right prompt for this one.
Shall I add it to your list of birthday ‘candidates’?