The Devil in the Hills - pg. 78

His peasants were spraying the rows of vines with Bordeaux mixtures; bent under the canicular heat, they moved about in blouses and trousers hardened and splashed with blue, pumping the blue water from the brass sprays on their backs.The vine-leaves dripped, the pumps squeaked. We stopped above the great reservoir full of pure water, deep and opaque, like a blue eye, like a sky reversed.