Postcards from the Pyrenees
Sometimes you find yourself in a place that just fits. You step out your door and look around you and feel this incredible belonging. In the southern mountains of France, in a countryside speckled with villages and farms and fromageries, I've found my heart.
It's an education-in-process ... not only because my grasp of French is rather limited, but because I'm finding myself without television, without internet, without distraction. This is good for me, to reacquaint myself with - well - my self. And my daughter, who now gets my undivided attention.
I see now why people find themselves in rural France ... or Italy ... buying farmhouses in tiny villages so distant from their urban homes in San Francisco, or Dallas, or Brisbane. It's a commitment to the type of lifestyle that's so hard to maintain in normal life - a slowing down that seems second nature in these places.
A life that revolves around food, and family, and friends, and walks through the forest, and sinking into chairs to read ...
The simplicity I strive for in my urban existence ...
(Can I hold on to this magic? Oh, I hope so ...)
Love, from France,