Sabine’s Father was waiting for us at the turn-off to our cabanon rental, as he was afraid that we would miss it. He shook our hands with a dry, firm grasp and showed us the way. Down the path, up and over to arrive at the domaine that had been passed down to Sabine. For both her Mother and Father had farmed the land for lavandin, a variety of lavender, since generations.
“There is still some left in the upper field, feel free to pick as much as you like.” And so we did. Bees buzzed and the warm earth released scent with every footstep. But nothing could compare to the perfume of the buds broken in the palm of our hands. Like a clean, soapy smoke if such a thing were possible. And as if all of the landscape and all of time past had dripped down into the roots, distilled.
Ben and I took off exploring while Remi patiently sorted and snipped, gathering lavender leaves to use in his fine cooking. Of course, I would call him to come see the abandoned cabanon with its well so that we could imagine what we would do with it, if it were ours. A bedroom here, the kitchen there. Plenty of shadow in the shade of the trees, an afternoon dream.
Remi presented me with a bouquet of blooms and Sabine’s Mother surprised us with a vial of lavender essence, one that had been created in the traditional way. “Well, if you like that sort of thing,” she added politely. I smiled widely in return and asked, “Who does not?”
Both are on my desk as I type. Later on, Sabine would tell me, “Sometimes in the heart of winter, I close my eyes and inhale a bit of essence and it is as if I am transported right back to summer and can feel the sun on my face.” Today is the first sweater day of autumn here and I know these small treasures will keep me warm in the months to come.
Don't smudge your screen! 😉
Right back at you, Veronica! Hoping you are staying warm down South! 😉
Leave it to you, Helen to appreciate the photo of Remi working away. Can you imagine how painful it must have been for the workers before they switched to machine cutters? I didn't know you had a farm previously. Oh, I am curious now…
You know, I can totally believe it Heather. I have some sachets that are ten years old and have not lost their scent yet…
Ooh, humidity and lavender don't seem to go together now do they? Hmm, well, perhaps a visit to Provence is in order? 🙂
Wow, Maywyn! I kind of love that idea! I had thought about doing a book of Ben in Provence–especially when he was a puppy. 🙂 Can you imagine how cute he was as a puppy? But a calendar could be quite do-able. Something to think about…hmmm…
Merci!
I guess you will just have to come back then, won't you? 🙂
Thank you for more beautiful photos
Speaking of seasons…have you considered doing a Ben calendar?
It would be difficult to chose favorites photos…except for those of Ben. When I view pictures of him, I feel a lift of happy as if seeing an old friend.
I just picked to day, the last of the lavender as we are expecting our first frost. How i would have loved to be in these field..
Heather, The perfect day 🙂 and you are right! Who wouldn't enjoy a vial of lavender essence? I place linen grain sacks filled with lavender on my beds to help induce relaxation. The closest spot for lavender harvesting here is about an hour away at a wonderful farm. There's a restaurant on site that has created their menu around lavender (including lavender martini's) and the organic produce they grow.
Wonderful photographs and Ben looks like the perfect companion.
xx
leslie