looking at a field

One-half of my field is recently mowed: I am not happy with the lack of grass and dandelions, but my husband likes it this way. The other half is full of dandelions, first thing in the morning, and Queen Anne's Lace, and grass up to your knees -- I love this part of the field. But we sit in the other part...

When it isn't already too hot and late, we have our breakfast at a little wooden table out in the field, shaded by hats and an oak tree, which has somehow sprung up. First, I go toward the fig tree (figues de Caromb) to see if any are dangling heavy to the touch, and if a bird has preceded me, that is all right too: that proves their ripeness. Then we heat some coffee, and have some local bread (we are trying the baguette with cereal grains). This morning, there was a small white butterfly flitting from purple flower to purple flower, and a largish bee doing the same with the dandelions.

We swam this afternoon in the "plan d'eau" or lake, green it is, and cold, from which you can see our mountain, the Mont Ventoux or windy mountain. We have to scramble up the bank afterwards, slipping a bit on the stones and grass, and feeling the privilege of it all.