Week 19: France, Part Quatre (Monday Morning)

Gaack!  Bright Light!  Bright Light!

It was the sun again, streaming through windows into the guest room where I slept.  Was it morning again, already?

I had been up late the evening before, not by design, but through the natural unfolding of events.  I had napped long and hard, the work slowly coming back into focus several hours later.  It was the sounds first; my friend in the garden watering her tomatoes, tidying up debris, and picking up plums that had fallen from the tree that shaded her car from the late morning and afternoon sun.  Running water gave way to slow murmurs, then the thunk, thunk, thunk of plum pits in a bucket.  As this unfolded, I spent an indeterminate amount of time gazing at the door of the wardrobe on the opposite side of the room.  The shutters were closed, flecks of light drifting though the comma-shaped cut-outs, with the breeze that drifted over me thick and warm.  Once firmly back in my body, I rose from the bed to meet the early evening.

I had been hoping to go for a walk; a nice, long walk to stretch my legs and regain my balance.  But despite the late hour, the sun was still bright and hot on my skin.  So I puttered in the yard with my friend, and had a snack in the still-shuttered kitchen, and checked the field next door for my new friend Lambie.  (S/he was out having a snack, two adult sheep grazing nearby.)  Once the shadows grew long, I headed out to explore nearby country roads.  I even made a new friend, a local dog who braved the zap of his electric fence to join me for the length of his hedge.  By the time I returned, sunset still fading to night, it was after ten.

So now it was morning again, and in my mind far too soon.  After a quick breakfast we were back in the Peugeot, zipping across the countryside.  Our first stop was the jardiniere, a bright airy structure filled with all things garden.  As my friend shopped (she is goal oriented, then ponders available choices) I explored the wide, white linoleum aisles: pet supplies (food, bedding, a handful of collars, leashes and toys); garden tools; outdoor barbecues; and an entire row dedicated to gardening clothes and hats (one side) and work boots (the other).  Next was the discount grocer Lidl*, where I found a divine bar of chocolate, with our final stop at CarreFour, the full-size version of a greengrocer I had shopped at in Roissy.  Back home, we stashed our treasures and I was shooed from the kitchen so my friend could create her art (noontime dinner) in peace.

I grabbed my book, my camera, and a tall glass of water** and looked for a cool place to read.  I settled on the front porch patio, on a thin strip of pavers clinging to the last of the morning shade.  I sat, bum on still-cool stone and took a few moments to recover from the whirlwind of shopping activity.  But as much as I hankered to read my book, I found my attention drifting from the page.

The heat of the previous day lingered in the air with the promise of more to come.  Safe in my shelter from direct sun, I began to relax into it, breathing it in, breathing it out.  My mind followed my breath and as my thoughts fell away I noticed the world around me: lush bushes of lavender teased by the wind giving the air a fresh scent, the delicate strings of pink and white that grew near the porch, the hum of the bees as they danced among them.  The air was still, almost heavy, and the trees were too, with only the rare bird fluttering across the lawn seeking a cooler spot.  I could hear the faint voice of the radio from the kitchen and the scratch of a car on a nearby road.  I breathed, relaxed into the stillness.  I felt… relieved… and as the tension and fatigue I had been holding slipped away, happy to be there.

* Similar to the store Aldi found in the States
** A tall glass in France holds about 12 ounces