France in the early summer is a royal feast for the senses. And though it is old, it never grows old for me. The color of the season surprises me over and over again. Oh that Provencal blue sky against the golden wheat! It is the first time isn't it? Do I smell baked bread? I know I do.
The earth soaks in Provence: Thyme, lavender, rosemary, fennel and certainly the Mistral stirs it... then with ease, pass the rocky clay soil the vines send their roots down... and wine flows with the scent of it all.
Pleasure under my feet and above my head.
French Country wealth.
How is your summer unfolding?