Summer solstice, sous la pluie

It is Brittany after all…  So, like clockwork the slight drizzle of rain and gray skies have filled the day of the summer solstice.  A sunny first day of summer would be just a bit too much to ask, it seems.

We couldn’t see the full moon last night, I wish we could have.  The rain finally cleared out  this afternoon, clear skies would be too much to ask for, but I was able to hang out my laundry.  At least my vegetable garden is got some water without me needing to haul it down…

I’ve been trying to savior each season for what it has, and brings.  It is a bit of an exercise in Brittany when seasons can resemble each other quite a bit- variation isn’t huge.  But it is most often doux, which is also appreciable.  I’ve been really practicing flipping everything on its head to see the good side.

Onwards through Summer and the approach of Fall, la roue tourne.  Time goes by so fast, a blink of an eye, and things are always changing, and some, always constant.

My garden is growing.  It is simple, since it is my first real, dedicated, potager.  Some squash, several tomato plants, salads, potimarron, bell peppers, courgettes, carrots…  The papi that lived here before had some gorgeous artichoke plants that are doing well, and some raspberry plants that also seem to do well.  I put in some verveine, mint, lavender, sage, basil, coriander, aloe vera..  I think of it as my miniature “medicinals” and first aid, along with basic herbals.  I really get a lot of pleasure walking down every day, see what everything looks like, pulling out weeds.  Another way to mark the seasons, and the wonder that is mother nature.


La Bretagne…

I was a bit worried before moving to Brittany.  I heard a lot of things before moving here, some great, and a lot that weren’t so great.  Above all, I was worried about the weather.  Oh, the weather.  One of the many idées reçues about Brittany is the weather.

While I always keep a parka type jacket in my car, because it is Brittany after all, I actually really enjoy the weather.  Brittany is a paysage of blue and green, soft and harsh, all at once.  The exact same spot looks different 365 days a year, dependent on light, season, weather.  It is a photographers paradise, a living water color that changes constantly.

It feeds my soul.  I can imagine generations, thousands of years, of feet walking the same trails, paths, rocky beaches.  I sometimes feel like I can see Viking boats land on the beaches, watch the Celts arrive after years of west word movement.  It feels to me like a home you continually rediscover.  An old manoir filled with secrets that uncover themselves over time.  The gray misty mornings are mysterious, and hauntingly beautiful.  From our house I can see fields of yellow, green, brown- like a quilt thrown on the ground.  Hints of celtic traditions peek through, whispers of ancient pagan traditions mixed with abbeys, churches and other traditional monuments that are a constant throughout most of France.

I find it to be magical, beautiful, haunting mix.  A place I think I could never tire of, a place I hope to continue to explore and call my own.