You may have gathered by now, dear Reader, that my little French village is no more than a cluster of houses above a slightly bigger village, which in turn has a church, a schoolhouse and a bakery.
Shopping, therefore, involves a trip down the mountain into a nearby town, a forty-five minute drive. Since my husband and I needed to stock up on provisions we drove into town yesterday. In addition, my husband needed some molding, insulation and light switches from Gedimat, the equivalent of Home Depot, in order to commence this summer's projects. I, on the other hand, took the opportunity to stop by a nursery to buy more plants for my perennial (and perennially neglected) garden.Though the curves down the mountain are sometimes hard to take, the drive is always spectacular. It leads past the most incredible landscapes and vistas, through romantic little villages, castles partly hidden behind century-old trees and fields of sunflowers, which are now in full bloom. On the horizon, the Auvergne's famous chain of volcanos can be seen on a clear day.
And above it all, there is the big sky, which I miss seeing so much in New York City.
Beauty, as far as the eye can see.