No Parking

 W were trying to imagine a place to park on the narrow street.
We couldn't do it.
The street was made up of rectangle pavers, making up the downtown of sweet Cunha.
We eventually found a park up the hill.
With a view of the deep backside of the village.

I declared. "I need to build."
"I need to live."
So we made our way down three pm. Well rested.
The angle of April, shadow gleeful and lit up.
Spring in our step, Autumn joined.
Waking to coffee fumes and baked pine nuts.