Like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. Well, that might be the wrong image. Like an old bear coming out of its den to see if winter is over. That's a better image. I'm talking about myself.
Yesterday before lunch I went out to cut some sprigs of rosemary, thyme, and green onion for a Thai coconut-milk soup I was making. A couple of people about my age came walking down the road from the direction of the vineyard.
I called out « bonjour »to them and said: « Il fait beau, n'est-ce pas ? » In fact the sun was downright warm on my shoulders, and it was a fine morning. I felt almost mild enough to have lunch outdoors on the terrace.
« Oui, on revoit enfin le soleil », the woman said. « C'est tellement agréable. » Finally we're getting to see the sun again. It is so very pleasant.
I didn't take any pictures in the morning, but I did take some on the afternoon walk with Callie. The organized deer hunt had moved on to other areas by afternoon, so the vineyard was no longer a no man's land. I don't know if the hunters actually shot any deer, but we did hear some loud gunshots early in the day, before the dozen or so cars parked out by the maison de vigneron drove away.
Okay, it's supposed to rain this afternoon, and the weather woman on TéléMatin just told me it's going to get cold again starting Wednesday. But there's no doubt about it now: the sun is still there in the sky, just waiting for a chance to shine again.
P.S.: Nine a.m. I just saw one of the most gorgeous sunrises that I've seen in a long long time. It was all wispy and puffy clouds in pastel pinks and purples on a pale blue background. It lasted for 45 minutes, the whole time I was out walking. It was other-worldly — the kind of scene that makes you wonder whether you are really still on Earth, or if you've been transported to a distant, more spectacular planet. You'll have to take my word for it, though. I neglected to put my camera in my pocket when I headed out the door.