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.
Heather, I can smell the lavender over the scent of fallen leaves. Instead the gray, driving rain that's just started, I can feel the warm sun of the Luberon on the back of my neck! Thanks for transporting me with another beautiful post! XOXO
Heather what a treat to visit this farm and pick the lavender! I am intrigued be the essence of lavender oil as well it much smell marvelous.
A memorable day!
Xoxo
Karena
Art by Karena
Please keep writing Aidan! You can do it!
And thank you again for organizing the lunch this weekend…
Bisous.
I bet you would buy one! 🙂
Well, from what I understood when Sabine explained it, these days there are machines that do everything all at once right down to the essence running out a tube at the end–this technique is used on some of the biggest farms and gives the essence a grassy scent. Traditionally, lavender is cut, then dried before being distilled in what is called a lambic–and before that there was the "enfleurage" process where the flowers were embedded in animal fat which pulled out the essence!
And the terrain is very, very rocky. The earth is a rich orange brown. Such "terroir" really is behind the particularities of many of the products of the region–more on which soon!
Thanks for stopping by with all you are doing! You rock, Leslie!!!!
Amelia, now do you really think that I would have left everything behind to move to a foreign country with just any old guy? Remi is brilliant, handsome, talented, funny and I am telling you truly that the man can COOK. 🙂
And it is a good thing that lavender just SMELLS like a drug but really isn't one, now isn't it?
xo!
Thanks V and I love how "petits cadeaux from the heart" sounds–the best of Franglais!
Hmmm…I am the WRONG person to ask about this Loree! But it is definitely worth asking around.
Bisous.
Hello Miss Spring!
Remi uses the leaves. It was rather lovely actually–he spread them out over the table to dry for days. They really pack a punch. I really like the idea of lavender being the world harbinger of sunny times. 🙂
Big hugs to you right back!!
That's a lovely post Heather. Full of inspiration as I sit here and breathe in, clicking away at the keys. Thank you for the warm, lavender-scented break.
A xo