Sunday morning. Saying it is like singing or ringing the bells that call the parishioners to Saint-Trophime. I am not one of them but treat that particular moment of the week as sacred. Most especially when, after pulling myself from the crunched linen sheets and shadows of the bedroom, I brace myself for a weighty smack of air only to be kissed by coolness for the first time in…months? Months.
A shift, a sift. And most certainly a gift. It is the beginning of the end of Summer, le grand départ from the long lazy and towards the bitter beats of la rentrée. Many a car will snake its way back to bigger towns today, its passengers uneasy in the stop and start of traffic jams that stretch to the horizon. Already I can feel their absence as I step out into the sun with my faithful friend Ben, his tail wagging, his gait light and refreshed.
I take him for a longer loop than we have been able to attempt in weeks, the heat having disappeared with a finger snap. He sniffs at the newness as I get caught up in the act of looking. For it is as if that blinding white also went on its way and ‘everything is illuminated’.
Details, textures, time and tow. It is le grand départ and I let them go.
What a lovely posting, Heather.
Just yesterday, I was sitting on my front porch (which is at least an 8th of a mile from the road) and, realizing that I'd been sitting there for an hour without seeing anyone (just for the record, I was reading….but the dogs would have barked), I had a strange recognition.
The weather's "broken" here in North Carolina, also…and I suddenly realized that, for the first time in my entire life, "Back to School Week!" is a completely irrelevant consideration. I've lived a couple of blocks from Duke University since 1986…and in Charlottesville, Virginia (home of the Univ. of Virginia) before that…and was actually in college before that….and I grew up going to school in a small college town in Tennessee.
As far as I've seen, there aren't even any children living in this six-street, historic-district grid we've moved into. In any case, all the yards are 1-3 acres (so, presumably someone could have 15 children, and I wouldn't notice).
In any case, it's distinctly odd to realize that the weather's changed….and there's no one going back to school. I mentioned this to Herve when he came last night; he suggested that, should I be feeling particularly bereft, I could sign up for the knitting classes the yarn-shop on the main street is advertising.
Well….enjoy the fall weather. I expect your Texan readers are as profoundly relieved as you are to see the end of this past Summer.
This comment has been removed by the author.
I love the architectural details in your photos, particularly the intricate door knocker.
There's been a breeze… an actual cool breeze! It feels so wonderful! The past couple of evenings I've actually been able to sit outside with my book and glass of rosé. It feels like the oppressive heat robbed me of my summer so I'm anxious to spend as much time outdoors now as possible 🙂
Gorgeous. All of it. (J'avoue que je ne peux pas me passer de toucher les surfaces… des murs, des meubles… j'adore tout ce qui est "texture.")
As you say goodbye to summer slowly it begins to seep into our days which are just starting to become longer and warmer…..and it is very welcome as it's been a long winter way down here in Tasmania. Rx
Heather,
I just love this post. Beautiful images and words. We are trying to enjoy the last of our season but will look forward to the Fall.
leslie
Your gift of prose and amazing writing makes me savor each sentence as I read through your post. And visually, I have this feeling that I'm going along with you on your adventures, from the pictures you put us for us to see. So happy you've finally had a reprieve from the stifling heat. Hope the nice weather is back for good. You and Ben can take long walks without fear of dehydration. xx
Oh how you're right about those scorching 'blinding white' Heather! It's fading, what a relief, colors are back. Fall colors, rich and textured.
I love how poetically you make simple and daily sound extraordinary and special.
Thank you.
PS. Thank you for stopping by. Always love your comments.
I wish it would depart from here too. We had a cool breeze last night and evening but, come morning, it was hot and sultry again. Your photos inspire me with their simple beauty. I have never been to Provence but it looks strangely familiar …