a cow 🐄 on a village street

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@alaskaenmelena
a cow 🐄 on a village street

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Rocco Romano - Ragazzo con Casco e Tulipani (2008)
💕 Espresso time ☆ enjoyment
Concarneau / Finistère / Bretagne / France
Une belle journée d'exploration
Concarneau est une ville côtière historique située en Bretagne, en France, réputée pour sa Ville Close médiéval remarquablement préservé — une cité insulaire fortifiée entourée de remparts datant du XIVe siècle. Nichée le long de la baie de La Forêt-Fouesnant, elle allie un riche patrimoine maritime à une vie portuaire animée, où les traditions de pêche se mêlent au tourisme estival. La ville s'anime chaque année en août lors de la colorée Fête des Filets Bleus, une célébration de la culture bretonne et celte qui attire des foules en costumes traditionnels. Avec ses rues pavées, ses vues pittoresques sur le port et son profond lien avec la mer, Concarneau offre une expérience bretonne authentique.

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2026.6.21 ~ 大分駅(キハ185、キハ125)
2026.7.10 ~ 日替わり定食(小鉢のアサリ貝だし冷奴)
Through the signs of touch and the echo of communions To what happened to remain forever… The last seagull circles like a tea leaf And freezes in the silence of your skies. And the sun and summer are revealed again Beyond the limits of possibility - to remember all this.
Beyond reality every morning, Where I wake up in a forgotten summer, Where the rising sun still slowly and wisely marks its scorch marks. Where your breath is weightless, And every pose of love is unreliable, But throughout the summer, again and again, I reach out like plantain, along a false path.
Beyond reality every morning, Where I wake up in a forgotten summer, Where the rising sun still slowly and wisely marks its scorch marks. Where your breath is weightless, And every pose of love is unreliable, But throughout the summer, again and again, I reach out like plantain, along a false path.

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The sound flies and melts like a fiery exhalation. To the right, the steps, as usual, lead only upward. A summer maple leaf in our hands… eternity, acknowledging no answer. Endless summer… laughter floating within us
It seemed to me that summer was angry, stripping leaves from the branches, Trampling rains below on the scattered foliage. It was simply that our time had suddenly vanished between us, That which remembered summer: the joy of celebration everywhere. And only the city remained – lined and blocky, With a throat squeezed by scarves: the endless ring road, A world of underground passages, sent to us by messenger, Where only lost things… So we tramp along.
It seemed to me that summer was angry, stripping leaves from the branches, Trampling rains below on the scattered foliage. It was simply that our time had suddenly vanished between us, That which remembered summer: the joy of celebration everywhere. And only the city remained – lined and blocky, With a throat squeezed by scarves: the endless ring road, A world of underground passages, sent to us by messenger, Where only lost things… So we tramp along.
It seemed to me that summer was angry, stripping leaves from the branches, Trampling rains below on the scattered foliage. It was simply that our time had suddenly vanished between us, That which remembered summer: the joy of celebration everywhere. And only the city remained – lined and blocky, With a throat squeezed by scarves: the endless ring road, A world of underground passages, sent to us by messenger, Where only lost things… So we tramp along.
Serenity

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