#30secondsofcalm (3)

Chanson des étés passées...

Hello dear friends,

Welcome to Obscura, the section where I speak of loves and losses, meetings and departures from the edges of elsewhere.

Today I write from the silence of this early morning at Le Barry, a tiny hamlet in the rustic, sunflower filled heart of the Tarn et Garonne. I have journeyed away from my hill to pass a few days with old friends; a once a year blissful reunion the memories of which carry me and my children through fifty-one weeks until the next. This is our nineteenth consecutive gathering, a fact that is both filled with joy and fear, the measure of each unbalanced by every further year of tear-filled farewells.

I will write again of these very great people, of the years of our friendship and how deeply important we are to each other, but not now. Now I wish only to be intoxicated by the ease of this morning, their presence around me and my children because they are slow, beautiful days no matter the weather, no matter the hour and always they will be too few.

Hence, I send you #"30secondsofcalm because it seems like a terrible gluttony to not share such a happiness, even in the smallest of ways.

And, perhaps, though I hope not, you are in need…

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Remembering crickets…

because here, too, their silence is obvious.

“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.”

― Linda Grayson

We have sunshine and wine, we have food, we have love and yes, we have chocolate, I will be back to catch up with all of you, to share more of these days that are held close to my heart and guarded with all my might, when every scrap has been soaked up!

With love

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