Our light.
In Provence, it is another member of the family.
It can be moody, blindingly brilliant or caress with a tenderness that is almost painful. It might show you parts of yourself that you had tried to hide or illuminates a love that you have long held dear. It is a powerful reminder.
Seldom banal, it is as expressive as its people and as changeful, as wanton as the seasons that push time with a heavy hand.
How often it has struck me silent and aroused the wonder that beauty can bring. At such moments as this, a sunset in an olive grove, I feel suspended with no need to clutch or ask for more.
For this is our light. In Provence, we are kith and kin.
These are wonderful, evocative images, capturing the Mediterranean light beautifully. I love olive groves, there is a fabulous old grove in Western Australia, where I come from, run by Benedictine monks.
Thanks to Virginia (Glamour Drops) for introducing me to your blog! Penny x
Love the sun filtering through the Olive trees and the old cart peeking out the side – wow – so sensory loaded!! Wow!!!!!!!!
That was a wonderful moment, Lorrie. We had taken a path in the 4×4 that we had somehow always missed and came upon the mystery of the bees just at sunset…
I bet you could write a dissertation about the peace in olive groves based on the so many you have seen in your recent travels! Ah, Greece must be gorgeous…
Susan, I thought about your comment while walking the dogs. And…I have to say that all of us that come from elsewhere seem to always appreciate the beauty here…it is only sometimes the folks that have grown up with it all their lives that might take it for granted…but that is true everywhere I suppose!
We need to get Helen Tilston over here, pronto!!
Love all of your lights too, Jeanne–including that inner one of yours that shines so bright.
Merci, N. I love the way you express yourself!
I will curtsy but deliver the same compliment at your feet, D.
Nothing better than spreading a little light in a parking structure!
The Alpilles are very dry, full of what is called the maquis–a low lying scrub of thyme, rosemary and sage plants that smell wonderful…