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Hippity-hop-hop

And I am not talking Beyoncé! That would be Remi, Ben and I as we are out the door and hopping along down the bunny trail. We are taking a well-deserved breather. Hooray! I hope to be posting while on the road but wanted to be sure to wish all of you that are celebrating a Happy Easter and a Peaceful Passover. For all of us, this weekend is a wonderful opportunity to stop and appreciate regeneration and rejuvenation. Life keeps going, breathing and blooming. Have a wonderful time everyone!

Ardeche under the trees

The rain is a coming down outside my window but I am certainly not complaining. No. The land in the surrounding Alpilles is so parched, it is as brown as burnt butter. So I know that today is a good day, one to help the wild things grow.

And besides, I have so many wonderful memories to keep me warm–enough to last the winter that we didn’t have! Do you remember my tiny video for  Dejeuner sur la herbe? With the birds chirping insistently and the blossoms floating by? 
 We had headed to the Ardeche after a week that was so rotten that we had to drive into a neighbouring province to try and escape it. But Life can give us such gifts. Just to say, “Hold on, it will be all right”. It was such a day. And there was even a touch of mystery in the old stones surrounding us. Celtic marks dating back two thousand years. No one knows what they mean.
“I’ll be right here,” I called out to Remi as he picked up his tripod and camera. “I’m not going anywhere,” I added, half-giggling and leaned back into the petal-strewn grass.

How wonderful are those rare moments when vision softens into mere lines traced on the sky and there is no pressure to make rhyme or reason out of what is being seen or felt. Senses are awakened only to go back to sleep again.

Little prickles of fallen branches and the soft smush of moss under head. The worn husks of almonds already emptied of their treasures by an early harvest. Perfume carried past and then gone.

Ben arrived next to me with a thud. Panting. Tired of following Remi around aimlessly in the hot sun. And knowing that there were probably still some crumbs from our lunch that could soon be his if only he looked cute enough. He did.

I am not sure how long I laid there. Quite sometime. At some point I raised my head to see a chipper family winding their way back to the beautiful bastide on the back of the property after a long bike ride. Their happiness mirrored my own and I feel it again, fresh, as I type. No amount of gray capped skies can push that out of me. Let it rain!

Red and gold

A little Monday sized post to send some warmth to whomever needs it. According to my friend Debra at Acquired Objects, spring is not yet in full bloom everywhere despite her early advances.
I never take the light for granted in Provence but it still can surprise me in its depth and variations.
These two buildings are just off the Rhone in Arles. Sadly, they are always closed up. For me, they are far too lovely to not be lived in but apparently the owner doesn’t agree.
I find such beauty in the patina of paint and lime wash scraped away by hard winds and time’s wings. 
Even in the shadows, I felt the heat of red and gold searing out of the stones.
Wishing everyone a lovely week ahead. More soon when my pollen dusted head is in less of a muddle!

Blossoms at Les Baux

I didn’t think much about spring before living in Provence. In New York there was just a sort of animal pressure of instincts awoken but not connected after a long winter. In Paris, well, there was rain and gray shining tin rooftops. Puddles seeping in the sides of shoes. 

But here, here one can believe in spring. Reborn, shake off your shoddy skin and risk a lot kind of feelings. Because it is everywhere, all around and it would be unwise not to echo. Only an utter grouch is capable of being impervious to such a slow unfurling of beauty’s palm.

On just another evening a few weeks ago, we followed the siren song out into the country to take a second gander at a field that had appeared a soft pink blur in passing. A field that we had passed hundreds of times but apparently never, ever at just the right time. For what grew up and around us soon made us forget that we could have ever seen it otherwise. 

The perfume. Enough to make you fall down into the many random sinkholes dotting the property. Belly-buttons of the earth but best to pay attention. Listen to the advice of the bees buzzing all around in fine feast form.

Let the light whither, I am safe here to dream. Let it go so that I can sleep and wonder what better ways might lie in front of me?

All calm. Treasures in the palm of a fallen blossom, lift your head to the wind. 

Winding away but with petals in my pocket, we watched the sun bow down to kiss the buds goodnight.

Bon weekend! 

Reading for the weekend

Hello there and hooray! Why the little whoop whoop you may ask? Well, it has been the polar opposite to last weeks sadness here in Arles. 
For my French friends amongst you, I wanted to give a little head’s up as Remi has two interesting stories out that might be worth a looksee. We are both delighted that he has a portfolio in the brand new magazine Le Figaro Histoire. Remi’s photography showcases some of the finest treasures that were discovered in the Rhone River and are currently featured in a wonderful exhibition at the Louvre until the end of June. 

I was fortunate enough to assist on many of these photo shoots and really saw how Remi treated these Roman masterpieces as portraits. My little photos don’t begin to do the publication justice. It is beautifully printed and I wish the magazine continued success in the future!

And if that isn’t exciting enough, he also had a six page spread in Le Pélerin last week so that might still be on news stands as well–you never know! This also concerned the recent archeological digs in the Rhone and we were really delighted with the photos that they chose for the story.
 

And for the many of you not in France? “Hey, what about us?” Now, now no need to get cranky as I have a recommendation for English readers too!

Several of you might know of the lovely Chris from her generous and beautifully written comments both here and around the blogosphere. Imagine my utter delight in receiving a present from her! And it was the most beautifully wrapped present I believe that I have ever received…
…and apparently the best smelling one too! Ben would not stop sniffing the flowers. Ben, those are fake you silly goose! 
As loathe as I was to unwrap such a parcel, curiosity got the better of me. Inside, I discovered a novel that looks right up my alley: “The Lantern” by Deborah Lawrenson. Not only does it take place in our beautiful Provence but it is apparently “Everything you could want in a gothic mystery that doesn’t also include a heroine named Jane Eyre”–whaaaa? That is exactly the book that I am currently rereading! It’s kismet! 
Thank you as well, Chris for the incredibly kind words that you wrote in the card regarding this blog. I know that I say it all the time but I feel so fortunate to know you all! 

PS. Ben may not know how to read but he sure does know how to communicate…
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