It is funny the frustrating things that slow-motion blur into helpful, then hop into good in the long run.
I don’t tend to expound too much on Kipling’s rougher nature but it is something that we live with everyday. Our adopted dog was definitely beaten in his previous life and bitten too. So let’s just say that he tends to strike first when in doubt. I have learned to be as careful as a CIA agent when out on our walks for good reason, certainly as many folks tend to just open up their doors and let their dogs roam unaccompanied in the South of France. I tighten my grip on his leash and scan the horizon; I pay attention to the snap of each twig breaking, ready for what might come up at the next turn in the bend. Frankly, it can be a little exhausting but it is just a part of love. And over months – certainly since we have moved out to this village – I have come to rely heavily on my instinct. I listen hard to that inner voice far more than I used to. It can be uncanny how a “Wait. No, stop here,” has continuously averted potential dangers.
I trust my instinct.
And it serves me for light-hearted pursuits as well.
It was already late yesterday evening when I decided to ride my bike out to the garden. A big storm had been announced for today – yes, one that hit hard and had both dogs, including Kipling, hiding under my desk – and I wanted to make sure if there was anything that needed to come in. Remi had given me the black vintage bicycle for my birthday present. It needs huile somewhere up front – I am the veritable squeaky wheel – and so call my ride The Cricket. It was already wheezing heavily when I made a last minute right turn after la pharmacie to take the back road out. It is much longer, so much so that I had never ridden that path before but something had tugged me, go.
I weaved around speed bumps and passed houses spinning chimney smoke before bumping down a dirt path next to an apple orchard. Yes, it was good that I had come as there were several newly tumbled tomatoes to rescue. I didn’t linger, the light was blooming. I pushed the pedals, rose up in my seat and caught my breath as I pulled up alongside the apple trees once more. Their perfume was calling me in a way that I had been too rushed to feel upon arriving. A smell that was far more complex than the rubber band word apple can convey, it was a song that ran from blossom to fruition. I stopped, awkwardly as I am still not confident on my bike and fished in my pocket for my camera, any modern testimony to something so time-worn and true.
Breathing in, breathing out fast, I cut across the pétanque court, wheels wobbling, light fading, straight to home, grateful for hearing and believing what I do.
And that…was one fine sentence Edgar! I loved your most recent poem…
Joan, will you trust me when I say that this was exactly what I needed to hear today? Thank you.
Both of my boys do the same when it is summer here!! It must be a Retriever thing. 🙂 And yes, of course I am using up the last of the tomatoes well…last week I was so obsessed by the fresh goat cheese and tomato sandwich that I had for lunch that I made it twice.
It is only about five minute ride out to the garden – if that, which is lovely and yes, the just me, non-make time is much much needed in this household. 🙂
As my Mom so perfectly put it: I now have "a set of wheels"!!! Hooray!!! And it isn't just any stupid bike but the most ME vintage bike in black with a bit of gray plus Remi bought elastic cords in Hermes orange to hold my things in place in the basket and the rack on the back!
I can't buh-leeve you were give a bike after the birth of your first child…
And thank you for the reassurance, most certainly as you have been reading on for nearly five years now!
Gros Bisous,
H
Merci, Emily!
"Peril" is such the right word Judith…I could give some examples of what we in our collective consciousness have been ignoring but that would be preaching to the choir.
You made my day by saying that Judi. It is me who thanks you and I am sending lots of Love.
Thank goodness you were just being poetic, Bonnie! I had a hard enough time keeping myself up straight as it was. With you on the handle bars too it could have been difficult. ;à Ok, just being silly…Merci pour tes gentilles mots…
Sister, the perfume of those apples was just insane! And I mean it when I use perfume over "smell"…whoa! And thank you so much for being such an amazing supportive Sister, always. I love you so much.
Heather I am lost in the image, it so beautiful and your writing so inspiring!
A lovely Sunday post!
xoxo
Karena
The Arts by Karena
Parish-Hadley Tree of Life