“Medieval village, first left.” We made the turn and snaked up the hill towards Castillon-du-Gard, emitting suffused sighs of wonder with each twist of the panorama. A discovery was in front of us, waiting.
Admittedly, they are increasingly rare for Remi and I. For his various photographic projects, we have criss-crossed la Provence and the eastern reaches of the neighboring Languedoc and wear our metallic merit badges proudly. We even know of secret villages and bijous that are hidden in plain sight.
But Castillon? Well, it was just a mark on the map that we passed on our way to the Pont du Gard and my beloved Uzès. As we had just left nearby St. Hilaire d’Ozilhan and were taking the long road home (aka driving in the opposite direction of where we needed to go), it was time to explore. The light was softening to a whisper and as we pulled ourselves and the pups out of the car, we realized that we had the streets to ourselves, just as we prefer.
And what unusual streets they are, such perfect cut stone paths…rock against rock to echo…
…and lead us down the yellow brick road…
…into a forest where things haven’t changed actually, not since one thousand years.
And yet I felt slightly ill at ease, as if the old stones were holding their breath, waiting for us to leave them in peace. We did and let the light lie behind us.
Mystery is a fickle dancer. So, of course we were immediately tempted to go back by day…
…and discern with a wagging finger…had we been imagining things?
Solidly, yes.
For there was something of the touch too much perfect…
…a stage set without blunder…
…as if the joke was on us.
What to make of this and these – those pictures that beg to be taken without posing?
A bit like a Frenchman captivated by an insouciant minx, we were slightly under its spell.
We visited a house for sale and returned, returned again; trying to imagine ourselves walking those streets…
…so different from the rowdy roll of Arles with no graffiti, no garbage, no wild cats to be seen. Could we? The answer is no. At least no for now.
But it was still a good discovery and like the mirage of the Pont du Gard shimmering in the distance, a kindly reminder not to assume but to stop and question. “Tu as toujours de préjugés,” Remi has been saying to me lately. And I believe that he is right. I think that after all of those years in New York, I try to decide what a situation is or could be in advance as a sort of survival tactic. It might have been smart then but it could be time to change now. Better to think twice then. Once with your head of course but always, always once with your heart as well.
PS. My friend DA Wolf at Daily Plate of Crazy recently wrote a thought-provoking piece on the definition of wisdom that I think that you might enjoy. You can find it: here.
How wonderful, magical and intoxicating! Good thing it was you there at the time and not me, because I would have completely lost control of myself in that fairytale place!