Minute on the mountain

There are minutes of the ticking kind and minute, minutieuse, of the little. I have a tendency to be fond of both, most especially when they meet. 

High up on a mountain, a butte points over the Grands Causses, a valley known for its vultures swooping on currents of hot air.
A see of big and little so close, so close that they exchange confidences in the winds cupped around my ear.

 But rather than only look out…

…searching for the sea that can be traced at the horizon…

…I wonder at the waves at my feet. Rock, field and flower.

We feel content and languor beneath the shadows of rolling clouds.

PS. Remi and I wish to thank all of you that sent such kind comments and emails for his 50th birthday…

29 comments

  3. Oh my goodness Gallivanta that is so beautiful, I love it!! Such interesting ideas inside that brain of yours. 😉

  4. Thank you for the kindness, G. I felt that the writing was a bit wonky but a good egg in LA encouraged me to remember and keep going forward.
    xoxo

  5. Catherine, save for the winds it would be one incredible spot for yoga!!!
    And your blog is always so beautiful…

  6. That was a beautiful tour of the landscapes and atmosphere of Provence. Just lovely. One could reach out and touch the flowers. xo Jenn

  7. A beautiful juxtaposition of words and photos; they flow and repeat like a design on fabric. Is that the plant heather? The rock outcrop could be on our own Port Hills. I also want to add I feel the word and dance 'minuet' applies as well; minuet origin:
    late 17th century: from French menuet, 'fine, delicate', diminutive (used as a noun) of menu 'small'

  9. Absolute poetry, Heather…how I would love a minute on your mountain 🙂
    Thank you for popping by today…always lovely to hear from you.

  10. It was actually two! We went up for sunset the night the first photo was taken and a huuuge storm came rushing in so we had to go–the next day was big blue time. And that is Kipling–anytime you see big fluffy tail (especially up in the air) that would be The Rascal.

  11. That would be a yes, Leslie. But at least (sigh) there is still what is considered a "surplus" of trees in France.
    And thank you for your kindness–hey! I am happy to have your support every time you choose to give it. I am not picky that way. 😉

  12. Yep, it was his 50th. 🙂
    I think that you also appreciate the big and the little too!

  15. Luckily you have many, many around you too. 🙂 But it truly is a gorgeous spot up there. We go each time we are in the area.

  16. Edgar, I have to admit that I haven't felt much like writing lately but photography? Anytime!

  18. Love the blending of big and little, sea and sky. And the little bit of furry friend in the first photo. Is that Ben? Kipling? What a beautiful day. XO

  19. My comments about your photographic poetry must sound like a broken record, but…I love to see what you have seen and read your thoughts about it, because both are so unerringly, beautifully sublime. You are teaching this person to see what I have overlooked, and not thought about, during the last 30 harried years. Thank you, Heather. Fondly, Leslie

    P.S. Do I see evidence of a clear-cut forest in the first photograph? Does (or did) the logging industry do clearcutting in France?

  20. So very beautifully thought…the large and the little…very calming. What's this about Remi's birthday? I am out of the loop somewhat…shall hunt deeper in your blog to discover…

  22. It's experiences like this that make my heart sing. Thank you for taking me on this beautiful journey. XXX

  23. What gorgeous scenery. Thanks for sharing it with us. Such beautiful places help me to relax.

  24. I "feel content" and grateful.

    Thank you for the photographic essay, simple and concise, on nature's wonders.

  26. Definitely after a certain point, it's all about "we are still here! whoohoo!"!!!!

  29. I love this, both the language and the photos. And yes, there are wonders both at the horizon and at our feet.

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